I didn't intend on kidnapping anyone.
The session of Riksdag had let out fifteen minutes ago, and the area was just beginning to clear. The Green Party were all very chatty.
I crossed the bridge, feigning an intense conversation on my cell phone. I had intended to use the old 'listening to my iPod' approach to my recon mission, but I had forgotten the device back in my hotel room. That, in addition to the fact that my flight had been delayed two days due to some sort of severe ice storm was throwing my entire mission into shambles, and it had barely even begun.
I cozy-ed up to the nearest stretch of non-populated railing, rested my elbows on the freezing concrete and waited, rambling on in Greek about my grocery list. I had just begun a somewhat long-winded ode to the cucumbers I was planning on purchasing the next time I needed to stock the fridge at the safe house when I saw my mark.
She stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of Nordic blondes: fiery red hair bobbing higher in the crowd -- just above super model height, just below professional basketball player -- her lavender jacket a flashing beacon in a sea of somber, professional black pea coats. Someone next to her said something, and she turned her head to acknowledge them, sending a wave of hair dancing through the winter air, before her light laughter floated over the water to where I stood on the bridge. A few moments later, and she passed me just as I was running out of good things to say about Sweden's impeccable lingonberry jam.
I clicked my cell phone shut and dropped into step behind her.
The politicos and business people she was surrounded by started to fall away and go their separate ways as the group traveled further from the Riksdag, and soon, she was walking alone down the darkening street, swerving gracefully between foot traffic. I quickened my pace to match her longer strides.
She took two quick turns, and I almost lost her, but with a short jog, I caught sight of her long red hair whisking around a corner. I closed the gap, reaching into my pocket for my small taser, but as I rounded the corner, I had a split second of clarity before I hit the ground, curling in upon myself, moaning in excruciating pain. I made a mental note to no longer use a taser, if this was how much it actually hurt.
I came to just in time to see a flash of vibrant red hair close the trunk of a car. In the sudden darkness, I heard her mumble to herself, in perfect English: "I never intended to kidnap anyone...."
nt - 7/16/10
Notes: I am unmotivated to write. It's just too damn hot.
*Prompt taken from the very lovely blog, Let the Words Flow