Lost & Found Pt. 01

***********************************************

Chapter 1

***********************************************

It was just supposed to be a trip.

A trip of self-healing. For discovering one's worth and meaning in life after a traumatic breakup. Pray Eat Love sort of thing.

Carly's travel companion Veronica had come up with the brilliant idea of going to Europe. She agreed because she found herself lacking the patience to come up with a travel plan. She needed to get away from California. Veronica, who was her college roommate and family friend, had plenty of time and money to spare. Veronica booked all the flights, hotels, trains, limos, clubs, and shows. The first half she appreciated, the second half not so much.

Veronica was a party animal and she was not. They both came from well-to-do families. Carly's family runs a successful winery in Sonoma, while Veronica's family business is in shipping and logistics. But Carly was never much of a consumer of luxury goods. Her family's fortunes afforded her horseback riding lessons from a young age, which cultivated her interest in animals. When it came time to choose a major at her local college, UC Davis, she went into veterinary medicine. Her family only expressed slight disappointment that she didn't want to continue running the family business. Her parents eventually persuaded her younger sister, Lydia, to major in managerial economics also at UC Davis. Her parents stopped worrying about no one wanting to carry on harvesting grapes and manage wine club subscriptions.

She met her ex-boyfriend through family gatherings. He was getting a business degree on the east coast and was visiting relatives during the summer. They hit it off quickly. He was attractive, athletic, and came from a wealthy family. In other words, they "matched" on paper. Their romance blossomed during the summer and he would fly back at least once a month to the west coast to visit her, often staying for extended periods of time during the holidays. Their long distance relationship was maintained through daily doses of FaceTime and sexting. Like all young college couples, they were at the peak of their erotic explorations.

She imagined a happy future as she applied for residency to east coast veterinary hospitals -- he would graduate and get a job somewhere, probably New York, and she would move in with him. Her parents would miss her, but she was looking forward to life in a big city as a young professional couple.

One morning, that all came crashing down when she inadvertently read his phone. He usually kept his phone in his pocket and under his pillow at night. Her nature was not to pry but to trust. While he was taking a morning shower, his phone vibrated continuously. She eventually got annoyed and curious enough to pick up his phone. Her heart nearly stopped beating when she read the texts.

Hey babe.

Miss u. When are you coming back?

Its cold today. Is it warm in Napa?

The sender's name was shown as "M". Just M.

She held the phone and felt she had been hit by a car.

"How could I be so naïve?" Instead of blaming him, she blamed herself for not having done enough detective work. To be so trusting of someone she only got to talk on the phone for an hour or two every day and had sex with once every month. She abstained from other men, drugs, and partying...while he flirted with another woman.

She thought about all the ways she'd stay cool and get to the bottom of this, but as soon as he stepped out of the shower, water dripping from his half naked body, proudly showing his lean and muscular frame that used to attract her so much but now repulsed her, all she could utter was: "How could you....!"

He blinked and said "Huh?"

"Who is M?"

She anticipated denial and anger, but he just shrugged and said, "Oh, a friend. Did she text me?"

"A friend doesn't call you `babe` and tell you she misses you!" She could barely recognize the high-pitched screaming voice that was coming out of her. She had always been so rational, so controlled - until now.

He still played it cool, "That's just the way she talks. Stop being so dramatic!" he added a hint of irritation to his tone, "I'm not cheating, OK?"

"OK." She took a deep breath, "Then unlock your phone and let me read it."

As she had expected, he froze.

"No?" Her heart sank, and from the deep abyss within rose a deep, deep fury. "Why not? If you have nothing to hide."

"It's private, OK?" He stuttered. "I got messages with other friends and stuff. Would you let me read your phone? All your texts?"

"Yes," she quietly replied, "because I have nothing to hide."

"You're gonna break up with me over this? He said throwing up his hands. "Over some ridiculous text? Over nothing!?"

"We're done here." Tears rolled down her face. Carly leapt off the bed and started to get dressed. "Get out!"

"OK, OK, I'll leave," he sighed, "just - call me if you change your mind about making a big fuss out of this, OK? I still love you, baby." He left.

She cried the whole day. She cried the whole weekend. She drank bottles and bottles of wine from her family's cellar, locking herself in her room staring at nothing. He never called her. She never called him. Spring break was over. Then, as the new semester came, he updated his Facebook status to single, then "in a relationship", with someone whose name started with M. Selfies at parties of him and M began to fill his wall. She unfriended him.

Her residency application came back and matched her to a veterinary hospital in New York. She requested a re-match and got a residency in Austin, Texas, which she then applied a delayed start which would give her a 3-month break.

She needed to go somewhere and reset. She was lost in life.

Most of Carly's school friends were busy beginning their residency. Only someone like Veronica, who didn't really have a job except occasionally helping with running the family business, had the time and money to go on a trip. Carly took the good with the bad. She would travel with Veronica across Europe, doing a bit of silly sightseeing (lots of selfies with gorgeous backdrops that Veronica insisted on putting on Instagram everyday), some art museum and church tours (which she enjoyed), walking around ancient streets, and mandatory partying in the evenings.

By the time they got to Prague, Carly was worn out. They danced all night at an ultra-upscale nightclub with Veronica at the center of everyone's attention. She downed a few drinks, had a few dances, and found herself annoyed trying to get men's hands off her. She didn't want to get touched, kissed, or laid, so the nightclub was clearly the wrong place for her.

Carly shouted a quick "I'm gonna go get some fresh air!" to Veronica and went outside. The night air was cool and refreshing, but the neon lights and the chatter from inside the clubhouse still bothered her. She wrapped her long cozy shawl around her and started walking away from the major roads and all the action. It became quieter, and quieter.

Until it was just her.

She wasn't worried about being lost. She had her phone with google map. She looked around and walked past tall walls with gates, beyond which glimpses of majestic mansions could be seen. Some of the mansions were flying flags from different countries. She figured she had stumbled upon an area where consulates and foreign diplomats lived.

She could still hear cars passing by frequently just two streets away on the major thoroughfare. Her gait was deliberate and slow as she thought about what it meant to live in a foreign country like this. She never lived abroad, only visited foreign countries for family vacations. She sometimes envied friends who had grown up all over the world because of their parents' work. Often they spoke multiple languages fluently and continued to have connections overseas. Often, they seemed to know just what they wanted for both their career and romantic life.

She was sure she wanted to be a veterinarian, but she wasn't sure how love would play out in her life. Growing up as an attractive girl, she never had a problem with finding guys to flirt with, but taking that one step further, to live together forever...seemed remote.

She stopped just before turning a corner, staying still in the dark of the night.

Is this all there is to life? she wondered. Get a job, make money, get married, maybe have kids, send them to college, retire? That's what her parents did. They seem to enjoy the lifestyle of running a vineyard under the California sunshine, where harvest season is busy but business is good, and every day ends with good food and wine. She secretly found her parents' life boring. In part, that was why she went into caring for animals. She chose to specialize in equine surgery and emergency care. She had a bright mind, steady hands, and had lifelong experience with horses. She exceled in her program. It was actually somewhat awkward for her to apply for residency in New York City, where there was little demand for equine veterinarians, but she did it out of her foolish romantic dream. The re-matched hospital in Austin, which had an equine surgery center, was a much more suitable career choice.

Her mind wandered off to think of her family's vineyard, her stable with the horse she still had back at home, and her ex. She barely noticed the black sedan driving down the road ahead of her. No one would have noticed her, as she was concealed in a dark corner and had been standing there for a good while. The sedan went was out of sight. The sound of car doors opening barely registered in her mind -- those were just everyday background noise. That was, until she heard a quiet, broken off scream.

She stepped out of her dark corner just in time to see a man shooting through the open car door. The man turned to look at her.

She froze.

The next moment the splitting sound of a shot broke through. The man bent down and put a hand to his abdomen. He'd been shot. Shouts could be heard from inside the mansion next to the gate.

A car came screaming beside her. The door was open and an arm reached out and yanked her in while the car sped toward the faltering gunman. More shots were fired, some clearly aimed at the car. The gunman managed to dive into the passenger seat just before a bullet went past the open car door putting a hole through it. Somehow both car doors got closed and the car accelerated at an insane speed, making deadly sharp turns through the narrow aisles of the city, causing her to tumble inside the car. She was barely holding on.

The driver, though not visible from where she was, shouted and cursed in German. After the driver repeated a few times, she figured out he was talking about the gunman in the passenger seat being shot.

The man who dragged her into the backseat was still gripping her arm. He spoke to the gunman, surprisingly, in perfect American English, "Where are you shot?"

"The stomach!" The gunman responded in coarse, heavily accented English.

"Can you stop the bleeding?"

The gunman groaned didn't answer. His breathing was heavy and irregular.

Her backseat cohabitant repeated the question, this time with more urgency in his tone, "Can you stop the bleeding?"

The gunman continued to groan but seemed incapable of doing anything else.

Then, Carly's medical instinct kicked in.

"Bring him to the back!"

The man beside her stared at her in shock. His eyes widened. In the dark, she could only make out his heavy beard and a deep set of eyes that were currently filled with disbelief.

"Bring him to the back!" Carly repeated, trying to sound as calm as possible, "He could be going into shock. We have to stop the bleeding!"

The man was still staring at her, while both of them bumped up and down and swayed violently inside the speeding car, the roar of the engine almost deafening.

"Lay him down here!" she shouted, "I can treat him."

The man was silent for another moment, but then quickly said, "Try to run and I will kill you."

He let go of her arm, reached to the front and with great difficulty, managed to pull the gunman to the back and lay him across the seat.

"Light!" she shouted. The man pulled out his phone and shone the flashlight onto the gunman.

She reached and felt the wound. It was through the left abdomen and though there was blood everywhere, she somehow felt it may have missed the organs. He wasn't bleeding as much as he would have been if the bullet had hit a major blood vessel. He was also still conscious.

She took off her shawl. She was thankful, given the circumstances, that it remained with her. She bounded it tight around the wound. She pressed a palm directly above the wound over the makeshift tourniquet to further stop the bleeding, which solicited a painful groan from her reluctant patient.

"We need to get him to a hospital." She turned to the man.

"No hospital." The man sharply replied, "What does he need to live?"

She had expected that answer and bit her lips. "I don't know yet, but at minimum, he will need a blood transfusion, IV, and some stitches."

She was marveled at her response. She had no idea how, as she had witnessed a potential murder, got abducted and yanked into a fleeing car, still managed to come out talking like she was working shift at a trauma center.

Am I going to live? She wondered as she waited for the man's reply.

"I can get you those things." The man then turned to the driver, "He may live. Keep driving."

The man started making calls, attempting to acquire the medical supplies she demanded. Then he finished the call and stopped speaking. There was nothing but silence in the car. Carly concentrated her focus on her palm that was pressed to the wound, rising erratically with the gunman's breathing.

Time went by. But she couldn't tell how long. She just stared at her palm.

He's going to live. With every minute that passed by, she grew more certain of it. She had controlled the bleeding and he was still conscious. Fear now began to crept up through her own body. What uncertain fate awaited her once the car reached its destination?

How did they not get caught by police? The shots were clearly heard. Who did they kill?

She felt the car slow down. She hadn't looked out of the window but it wouldn't have helped anyway, given her complete lack of knowledge of the area. They had only arrived in Czech Republic the day before.

The closer the car seemed to be approaching its final destination, the more she feared.

I need to stop panicking. They will sense it! I need to act...like the doctor I'm pretending to be.

She focused hard on her patient. She remembered she asked for the supplies. She gathered her thoughts to her training and started preparing a plan for how she would assess the wound, perform blood transfusion, hook him up on IV, and sew up his wound.

The car stopped and the doors flung open. There was no waiting medical staff with a stretcher, only a handful of men with guns. One of the men pointed the gun at her, "Who is this?"

The bearded man explained, "Maximus has been shot. She will treat his wounds. Take her inside."

With guns pointed at her back, she was led into an apartment complex. They brought her into a nearly empty room with a bed and a table. The table had a stash of the supplies she had asked for. The patient who could now be identified as Maximus was brought in. Miraculously he stayed awake through everything. She checked his pulse -- her mind temporarily switching to someone who was a medical professional -- patient has GSW to the left abdomen, no sign of organ damage. Bleeding is controlled and patient is conscious. No possibility of CT scan to confirm wound site. Best option is to close the wound and observe.

She did all of that in an hour, paying little attention to her surroundings and the chatter of mixed foreign languages behind her. Then she stood back, wiped the sweat off her forehead and declared, to no one in particular, "It's done."

The gunman known as Maximus stared at her in silence.

"What is going on here?"

She turned to find the voice belonging to a burly man with a shaved head wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans.

Now, she got a good look at the bearded man that had abducted her. She now knows that his name was Eli. He had dark brown hair with a thick beard, but behind the beard his face looked reasonably smooth, so he could have been in his 20s or 30s. He was tall and had a lean build. With a cold demeanor, Eli explained, "She was at the scene. I could not determine whether she was related to the target, so I took her in. Maximus was shot and she treated him."

"So you failed," the burly man hissed at Maximus in his American accent.

"No, I succeeded. But I got shot on the way out." Maximus replied, "She...saved me."

There was silence as all eyes stared at her.

"Who are you?" The burly man asked, "And don't try to lie."

Her heart racing and her body shaking, she tried as best as she could to stay calm, "I'm an American tourist. I was just...walking by."

"Tourist." The burly man snarled at Eli, "You brought a fucking tourist!"

"The fucking tourist was put to good use."

"You should have left him there to fucking bleed to death!" The burly man growled.

"And that would truly be a failure, George." Eli said, "You would surely get paid if I had left him there. I did tell you your plan sucked balls. You wouldn't listen, I had to go there and clean up your ass. Well, Maximus' bleeding ass to be precise. And if I had left lady tourist there, she would have borne witness to the whole thing. Instead the target was killed and Maximus is saved. Mission accomplished."

"Fuck you with your fucking plans! Get rid of her."

This is it. She nearly fell to the ground as her legs lost strength. I'm going to die here.

Eli looked between her and Maximus, seeming in no particular hurry to shoot anyone, "She's useful. Maximus still needs aftercare. We can get rid of her later."

"Aftercare! I run a fucking nursery here. Aftercare!" George shouted, but behind his swear-filled rants, he is processing the man's suggestion, "Hey, you! Tourist! Are you a doctor or something?"

"I'm...I'm a veterinarian."

Her answer solicited some giggles from a few people in the room as they taunted Maximus that he had been treated "like a wounded horse", which wasn't exactly far from the truth.

"Ahh, fuck it. I've got enough to deal with." George rubbed his shaved head, "You watch her, Eli. You wanna keep her alive, you keep her alive and in this damn place. One step out, lady," he stares at her, "and you're gone! Got it?"

"...Yes." She murmured.

George turned his back and started shoving people out the door, "Get back to your fucking rooms. It's fucking late and I'm going to bed! Who's on duty tonight? You? Keep your eyes on lady tourist and shoot her if she moves in the wrong direction. I'm running a fucking preschool here..."

There was only Maximus, the man named Eli, and her, left in the room.

"Come with me." Eli said.

She followed him down the corridor. He led her into one of the apartment rooms that was exactly the same size as the one Maximus was in. There was a bed, a desk, and a sink.

"Try to get some sleep." He signaled for her to get onto the bed.

She walked, hesitant and frightened, toward the bed. Kidnapped. Abducted. Imprisoned. Dark words raced through her head. She was alive but perhaps facing an even worse future.

He read her body language and said, "You won't die as long as you don't try to escape."

"What is going to happen to me?" She mustered the courage to ask.