February Novel Essential Information

Novel Title: Unriddling Clues

Series Title: Saga of Aissure*

Time Setting: 1872 Age of Peace†

Genre: Medieval Fantasy

Minimum Word Goal: 90,000

Timespan: February-July

Locations: Zilyograd, Prizimlyatsa Oblashkey, Czirvik Tzhikir; Bolodenkagrad, Solnizhna  Oblashkey, Czirvik Tzhikir; and other locations long the Tzhikir-Aissure border

Main Characters: Nikita Davydavich Kharondirev, Gavriila Lavrintieva Comaromkova

Background Information:

Nikita is the oldest son of an accomplished koszhiak soldier — cavalryman — and his wife, who had always dreamed of becoming a koszhiak like his father, playing war and working with horses at home until finally he was drafted into the military at age seventeen. In the three years since then, despite his low rank, he's become quite renowned for his skill with horses that has been proven at some instances even to exceed his father's, along with being commended for his sharp military mind which is part of why he has already achieved the rank of Cavalier. He has big dreams for his military career as well, hoping to one day — preferably soon — become a General and lead the Tzhikirskey army in conquering all — or at least most — of the Far North of Ureonaiea.

Gavriila is the oldest daughter of a koszhiak soldier and his wife, all of her siblings are girls as well, which somewhat distresses Gavriila, as her father has no heir, and should he die before his daughters are wed, horrible atrocities would be done to her mother, herself, and her sisters because they have no male representative in the military. Her father has regularly insisted and intended to comfort her by telling her he couldn't be more proud of his beautiful daughters, and that he doesn't need a son to be happy. It probably doesn't really help, though, that when Gavriila was young she always wished she was a boy as well, so that she wouldn't get in trouble for pretending to fight, or for trying to ride horses — especially astride — and she could go on an adventure without people thinking it ridiculous.

Pronunciations:

Aissure: aceyoor

Zilyograd: zihlyohgrad

Prizimlyatsa: prisimleeatsah

Oblashkey: ohblahshkey

Czirvik: zeervick

Tzhikir: zhihkeer

Bolodenkagrad: bowlohdenkagrad

Solnizhna: soulneeshnah

Nikita Davydavich Kharondirev: nickeetah davidahvitch cahrondeerev

Gavriila Lavrinteva Comaromkova: gahvreelah lahvrinteeayvah comahromkohva

Koszhiak: koshyak

Tzikirskey: zhihkeerskee

Ureonaiea: yurhahneighah

*Aissure is located in the same world as O'Enne (June Novel: Astounding Discovery), Zeig (March Novel: Hopeless Night), and Le Gané (2014 September Novel No. 2: Corruption Rent)

†Does not correspond to 1872 A.D.

Next post will be February 1.

Treacherous Impulses: Day 20

Word Total: 120,023

Year to Date: 120,023

Summary of Events:

Hilton got help from a little girl and her grandmother in finding the kidnappers' hideout and then managed to get inside. His entrance didn't go undetected, Líliana planned to kill Dr. Haner and then take Mackenzie somewhere else, but then Mackenzie suggested that it might be Mr. Haner, so Líliana set a trap and decided to wait. Hilton got thoroughly lost, but then followed one of the gangsters to where Mackenzie and Dr. Haner were with Líliana and her bodyguards; he freed both Mackenzie and Dr. Haner, but Líliana succeeded in killing Dr. Haner before they could wholly escape. They drove to Montevideo, where they were thoroughly questioned by the CIA and finally — once Mackenzie recounted Líliana's motive to Mr. Haner, who recalled an incident that caused him to believe them at last — released. Their adventure finally over, Hilton and Mackenzie parted at the airport . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

""Would you call me a friend?" Mackenzie asked.

"No," Hilton replied quickly.

Mackenzie looked at him like she was hurt.

Hilton put a hand on her shoulder and looked deeply into her eyes. "You're much more dear than that."

A flush reddened Mackenzie's cheeks.

"You really are," Hilton said. "I don't even think a friend would have the fortitude to tolerate my incorrigibility and my idiosyncrasies. You– not even my mother has that kind of fortitude."

Mackenzie gazed at Hilton, her mouth slightly open, like she was surprised.

"When I lost you, I was so worried," Hilton said. "I . . . if I wouldn't have found you, and been able to keep you alive, there would've been no alternative for me other than to shoot myself."

"I'm flattered," Mackenzie said quietly.

"And . . . that pure– that look, of pure delight, when you saw me," Hilton said. "In the kidnappers' hideout. No one, ever, in all my life, has looked at me like that; like they actually wanted to see me."

Mackenzie gazed at Hilton, her eyes wide. Hilton wanted to say more to her, but he had no idea how to say what he wanted. The only way he could think to say what he wanted was to take her into his arms, kiss her passionately, and then do the very thing she'd made absolutely clear she didn't want him to do to her.

Gently Hilton slid his arms around Mackenzie and pulled her tightly against him. She returned the embrace not half as tightly as he was holding her.

As he held her he slowly lowered his head and nosed her forehead away from himself slightly until his lips found skin and passionately latched on. He held her head loosely in the fingers of one hand, while the other encircled her.

After a few minutes Mackenzie loosened her hold and started to push away from Hilton. Reluctantly he released her and looked at her, so fair, so beautiful, so much the personification of everything he could've ever wanted in a woman.

"I'll miss you Hilton," Mackenzie said softly. "But at least we've already exchanged numbers."

Hilton had to think for a moment before remembering that he'd texted her — thus giving her his number.

"We'll have to keep in touch often," Hilton said. "And whenever one of us is on the verge of getting into an adventure the other one should pop over and join them. It's rather fun having an adventure with someone."

"Yeah," Mackenzie said. "Next time I have treacherous impulses I'll call you."

"You have what?" Hilton asked.

"Treacherous impulses," Mackenzie replied. "I think I'd like to do something that could turn out to be dangerous."

"Oh," Hilton said. "I'll probably have a treacherous impulse long before you do."

Mackenzie smiled. Hilton smiled back, but his smile faded. Quickly he snatched her back up into his arms and gave her a quick, hard, passionate kiss on the cheek before heading off to his flight gate before they ended up missing their flights."

The setup for February's novel will be posted on January 29.

Treacherous Impulses: Day 19

Word Count: 114,016

Summary of Events:

Hilton got to be worried in Salto, being as he hadn't heard back from Mackenzie as to where the kidnappers had gone. Mackenzie watched as Líliana and some of her men tortured Dr. Haner with hot sauce, and foiled their attempts to do the same to her. Hilton got some advice on where to look from an old woman, and dropped off the money he'd offered her in thanks off at the local Catholic church as per her request, before making for Rivera. Mackenzie watched Líliana talk to a picture for a long time before Líliana explained how she knew Dr. Haner, and the romance they'd shared . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""He told me he couldn't bring me to America, but he would come and visit me," Líliana went on. "I was content. But then I was terrified, horrified even: he'd left me with a child. A young life within. My parents hated him, but once the initial fear passed I grew excited, I was going to bear the child of the man I had loved so. Surely that would mean he would return to me, marry me, bring me to America, and we would be a beautiful family.". . 

. . . "I decided to keep it a secret from him until the child was born," Líliana said. "And so I carried the child, and on the eighth of June I gave birth to my daughter: Alejandra Briann Haner-Nuño."

She turned the picture around to reveal a colour image of a small child with dark hair, light brown eyes, and skin the lightly tanned shade that both Mackenzie and Líliana shared. She was a beautiful and lively child whom Mackenzie thought took much more after her mother than her father.

"I then wrote Brian and told him," Líliana continued. "His words were happy which he sent back, along with a bag of powder. He told me to add the powder to her milk, and it would make her stronger and healthier."

Contempt was strong on her words now. Hatred and venom. Mackenzie almost thought that she should plug her ears, lest she end up being poisoned by the words.

"Naïve and foolish, I did," Líliana spat. "Almost instantly my daughter started to fail, getting weaker, so we gave her more. Then I laid her down for a nap and she never woke."

Tears started down Líliana's cheeks again, and Mackenzie felt warmth and moisture coming to her own eyes — but she quickly blinked it away.

"I didn't understand, I didn't know why my daughter had been stolen from me," Líliana went on, her voice trembling. "I felt it was what Brian had sent me, and so I held onto it, and I waited until finally I was able to get someone to tell me what it was. It was a poison."

Mackenzie glanced past Líliana at Dr. Haner. She couldn't imagine him doing such a thing, he seemed a little too stupid to come up with something like that.

"Brian murdered our daughter," Líliana said, bringing Mackenzie's gaze back to her and her expression of pure fury and rage.

To think that Dr. Haner would do such a thing left Mackenzie's insides twisted. She had no idea what to think. Líliana was supposed to be the bad person harming an innocent man. But Dr. Haner was far from innocent, so far from innocent Mackenzie had no idea why she'd embarked on this whole adventure."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 18

Word Count: 108,014

Summary of Events:

Mackenzie received Hilton's text and texted him back that they'd just left Córdoba, Argentina, pleased that the kidnappers hadn't taken her cell phone. Hilton made for Córdoba and due to his late arrival decided to spend the night — being as he hadn't received further updates from Mackenzie — he wasn't tired, so he read CNN and BBC articles until he was tired. Mackenzie watched for signs as they approached their next location and texted Hilton they were at Salto, Uruguay; her cell phone was then noticed, unfortunately, and taken from her. Hilton received Mackenzie's text and headed for Salto, stopping for breakfast before he got too far. The kidnappers drove to Rivera, Uruguay, where Mackenzie found out they were going to meet the kidnappers' boss, known simply as Nuño . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""Welcome back to South America Brian," she said slowly, her English clear and not that strongly accented.

Brian? A first name basis? Dr. Haner must've really known this woman. Dr. Haner made no reply, though.

"You wonder why you are here, I am sure Brian," she said.

Dr. Haner nodded.

"Well it's quite simple Brian," she said. "I have brought you here to die."

Dr. Haner shook his head, his eyes wide with terror.

"I am not the naïve girl I was when you first met me anymore," she said. "I'm not one over whose eyes the wool can so easily be pulled anymore. And I have much more power now too, Brian, you will die."

"No," Dr. Haner whispered, his voice trembling. "Please."

Mackenzie looked over to see tears running down Dr. Haner's cheeks.

"You showed no mercy and so no mercy will be shown unto you," the woman snapped, her voice like fire. He must've done something terrible to her, Mackenzie thought.

She gave sharp orders in Spanish and Reyes towed a trembling and weeping Dr. Haner off to the side. Dídac and Santiogo moved Mackenzie to be more central in front of the woman.

"And you," the woman said. "What is your name?"

"Mackenzie Blackbear," Mackenzie replied.

"And where are you from?" she asked.

"Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, Canada," Mackenzie replied.

"I do not know that place," she said. "But that is of no importance. Why are you here?"

"Because your men kidnapped me," Mackenzie replied smartly.

The woman rolled her eyes before lowering them into a glare. "And why were you where my men could kidnap you?" she asked dryly.

"I was following them," Mackenzie replied.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I saw on Wikipedia that Dr. Haner was listed on the deaths portion of the June twenty second page, and thought that I should do something to save him," Mackenzie replied.

"Why?" she asked, looking more curious.

"Because I felt like I should prevent crime from being done," Mackenzie replied. "I can't say I imagined myself getting into any of this, though."

The woman smiled, her bright red lips curling, but not revealing any teeth.

"Well, Miss Blackbear, you are utterly helpless now," she said, rising from her seat and placing her hands on her desk authoritatively. "For I am Líliana Nuño, and I get away with crime, because crime is my life."

So she was Nuño. Mackenzie had honestly been expecting a man, but being as Nuño was her surname, Mackenzie wasn't entirely surprised.

"Instead, you will be my audience," Líliana continued. "I will tell you the atrocities Brian committed, and you will watch as his life slowly ebbs away from him until he is nothing but a withered carcass on the floor."

"No!" Dr. Haner burst out.

Mackenzie looked over at him and saw Reyes was barely holding him on his feet as tears streamed down his face. He looked a terribly broken man. Mackenzie couldn't help but wonder what in the world Dr. Haner had done to get himself into this mess."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 17

Word Count: 102,008

Summary of Events:

Hilton ran out of gas not far from Cochabamba, but a benevolent man driving a truck Hilton thought would collapse in a stiff breeze managed to tow him to Cochabamba. Mackenzie was unsuccessful in finding a police station, instead the kidnappers found her and recaptured her as she'd been watching some boys play soccer. Hilton was driving around Cochabamba with absolutely no leads when a group of boys kicked their soccer ball into his car window; he asked them for help and they told him about Mackenzie's recapture. Mackenzie woke up later and made two escape attempts: one when the kidnappers picked up breakfast, and the other when they went to switch drivers, both failed. Hilton, thanks to the boys' aid, got to Sucre, but found himself leadless again; he tried to sleep, but sleep eluded him in his car, so he checked into a hotel to see if a real bed would help, but the thought of mobile phones kept bothering him . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Slipping out from under the covers, Hilton grabbed the bags from where they sat on the floor and brought them onto the bed. He set his bag to the side and opened Mackenzie's first one.

It was her garment bag. Hilton felt a rush of warm sensation wash over him. He was going through Mackenzie's clothes. He felt wretchedly inappropriate and mischievously devilish — like Mackenzie had said he was in Sarajevo.

Carefully he removed each article of clothing, feeling through it carefully for anything hard and rectangular. There was a plastic bag stuffed in the corner. Hilton peeked in it, but then left it alone. Her mobile wouldn't be in there.

He searched everything, but found nothing. He checked every single pocket in the bag and everything, but he didn't see anything. Hilton put everything back inside the bag and zipped it shut.

Taking up Mackenzie's bag, he began searching it. It was her purse. There was her wallet — which was of rather masculine design — and a change purse that looked homemade, a notebook, a handful of writing utensils, and more.

Hilton pulled everything out of her purse, but he found nothing. He felt the empty purse. There was nothing hidden in it that was mobile phone shaped. He put everything back in — hoping Mackenzie wouldn't mind the disarray.

Her mobile wasn't there. Now what did that mean? Well, quite obviously, it meant that Mackenzie had her mobile. It hadn't been on the floor — at least not that he'd seen,  and he was sure he would've noticed something purple on the floor.

And he knew her number. So if her mobile was on then he could text her — as calling would be too dangerous, the kidnappers would hear — and then he could figure out where she was!

Quickly Hilton threw his clothes on, took up the bags — making doubly sure he left nothing behind — hurried down and checked out of the hotel, much to the astonishment of the receptionist.

Climbing into his car, Hilton pulled out his mobile. He paused before he turned it on. If he were to turn it on then the CIA would be able to track him. But he had to turn it on to contact Mackenzie and get a response.

So what if the CIA followed him? He'd be hot on the trail of the kidnappers, the CIA would be following him straight to where the kidnappers were hiding. So long as he kept ahead of the CIA he'd be fine.

Pressing the button, he held it and waited as his phone powered up. The CIA could follow him. They just couldn't catch him. They hadn't caught him in Mexico, and he wasn't going to let them catch him now. He'd just let them see him.

Hilton selected the app for texting. A notice appeared on the screen that he had over fifty messages. He'd read them later. He was sending one now.

He typed in Mackenzie's number, then paused to think about what he should say.

Mackenzie, this is Hilton. What city and country are you in?"

Treacherous Impulses: Day 16

Word Count: 96,020

Summary of Events:

After being forced out of the airport, Mackenzie tried to escape the kidnappers, but didn't succeed. Hilton commandeered a taxi and pursued the kidnappers to Valparaíso, where he booked a room in the same hotel as them. Mackenzie managed to escape her hotel room and was chased around the hotel by the kidnappers for a bit before successfully evading them and finding Hilton was in the hotel; unfortunately, when she went to Hilton's room the kidnappers found her and took her back to their rooms. Due to Mackenzie's knocking on Hilton's door he discovered she was the kidnappers' captive, but was unable to rescue her because he didn't know where she was specifically; he then had to find a key because he locked himself out of his hotel room by accident. Mackenzie woke up in the kidnappers' van the day after — still driving, as they'd been since Valparaíso — and made plans with Dr. Haner to escape . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""How are we going to do that?" Dr. Haner asked.

Mackenzie looked up as she felt the van slowing. They were in the city now. She looked back at Dr. Haner.

"Maybe we could even get Santiogo's pistol from him and knock him out while Reyes is fuelling, then we just have one, and we can shoot back at him if he fires at us," Mackenzie said.

"Shoot?" Dr. Haner asked, his eyes wide and his face pale.

"It's okay, I've used guns before," Mackenzie replied. "I go hunting with my dad annually, and as a part of my work we're issued tranquiliser guns, which I've used. I should be okay until he starts bleeding and I realise it's a real firearm."

"And where are we going to go?" Dr. Haner asked.

"We'll run until we find a police station, or maybe an airport, except I don't have any money," Mackenzie said. "I think we'll go to the police station. If I come in with you they'll know that I didn't kidnap you. Or hopefully Hilton's following close behind and we can hitch a ride with him and fly back to Tallinn, or maybe to the US, and present you alive and well."

"Are you sure this'll work?" Dr. Haner asked.

"No," Mackenzie replied. "But it's all we've got. Unless you want to stay and die."

"No," Dr. Haner said.

"I didn't think so," Mackenzie said.

She braced herself as the van slowed. They were at a gas station. She waited as Reyes got out of the van and started fuelling it. Quietly she crept forward on hands and knees.

Santiogo raised his gun. Mackenzie snapped forward and grabbed it. Raising it up, she hit him once on the side of the head, but she didn't knock him unconscious. At least she had the gun.

"Quick!" Mackenzie hissed.

Dr. Haner crawled after her. Unlocking the door, Mackenzie hauled it open and started running. She glanced over her shoulder at shouts and saw Dr. Haner following close behind her while Santiogo was nearly crawling out the window shouting at them.

Reyes appeared around the front of the van. He levelled his arm to fire.

"Drop!" Mackenzie cried.

Dr. Haner collapsed like he'd tripped. Mackenzie ducked behind a parked car and watched the red plastic shield of its taillight burst into fragments as the bullet made impact.

Lowering herself down to peer under the car, she saw Dr. Haner was still laying in the middle of the lot, trembling with fear. Unfortunately Dr. Haner appeared to be cowardly and somewhat idiotic. She was going to have to run alone and find Hilton.

Getting to her feet, Mackenzie ran down the sidewalk and turned at the first street she came to. She kept running until she'd passed over two intersections. She then stopped and realised she'd left the gun beside the car she'd used as cover. Great. She hoped she found Hilton shortly."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 15

Word Count: 90,006

Summary of Events:

Hilton and Mackenzie followed the kidnappers around Havana for several hours and nothing exciting happened — much to Hilton's disappointment. After spending the night in Havana they followed the kidnappers on a boat to Nassau, where they had to wait around again and considered paying a visit to Hilton's aunt and uncle's estate there, but they ended up asking directions of a young woman who was related to that aunt and uncle on the other side, recognised them, and seemed intent to call the police on them. Fortunately, they escaped by following the kidnappers onto a plane to Valparaíso . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"An announcement came over the loudspeaker that they would be beginning their descent to Valparaíso. Hilton buckled himself in, then reached over to buckle Mackenzie, but found that she'd roused and was buckling herself in.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Nearly two in the morning," Hilton replied.

"Local time?" Mackenzie asked.

"That's what the flight attendant just said," Hilton replied.

"Oh," Mackenzie said. "So I guess we'll find a hotel, close to the kidnappers if we can, and sleep then?"

"You can," Hilton replied. "I'm not tired."

"You've been up the whole flight?" Mackenzie asked.

"Yes," Hilton replied.

"Do you sleep much at all?" Mackenzie asked.

"When I'm tired," Hilton replied.

Mackenzie made no comment and they landed shortly. Hilton kept an eye on the kidnappers as he guided Mackenzie out of the plane. The kidnappers didn't seem to be terribly tired from what Hilton could tell, nor did they seem particularly hurried.

Hilton hoped they could keep track of them. They went down to the tarmac and headed for the airport. Hilton was starting to think finding a toilet might be a good idea. He hoped it wouldn't cause them to lose track of the kidnappers.

He spotted one shortly after they got inside. "Wait here just a tick."

Mackenzie nodded.

Hilton hurried inside. He didn't know what it was about him and needing to use the toilet after flights. At least it wasn't half as desperate this time as it'd been in Sarajevo. He just hoped the toilet stall wouldn't get jammed on him this time.

Thankfully it didn't and he quickly washed his hands and headed out. Mackenzie wasn't where she'd been standing. Hilton looked around. Some unattended bags that looked a lot like his and hers were standing where Mackenzie had been.

Hilton went and looked over at the tags. They were. But where was Mackenzie? Had she needed to go too? She wouldn't have left their bags unattended, though, she would've gone once he'd come out — they didn't want to lose the kidnappers.

The kidnappers. Where were the kidnappers? Had they taken Mackenzie too?"

Treacherous Impulses: Day 14

Word Count: 84,022

Summary of Events:

Mackenzie had to turn down another romantic advance from Hilton shortly after she woke up the next morning. After they had breakfast they drove to Belize City — amazingly going the speed limit the entire time. In Belize City they went for brunch, being as they'd gotten in late the night before and consequently risen late, while they waited for the kidnappers to rouse. They then followed the kidnappers to the docks and embarked on a boat for Havana.

Excerpt of the Day:

"Motion out the corner of his eye caused Hilton to raise his gaze. A car had pulled up to the pavement. The kidnappers' car. It was too far up the street to see them. He barely had to look past Mackenzie to see it.

The kidnapper in the passenger seat got out. Hilton had a feeling they were in a hurry. The kidnapper walked into a restaurant not far from the car. Hilton kept eating slowly as he watched.

"Do you see them?" Mackenzie asked quietly.

"Yes," Hilton replied just as quietly. "They're getting nosh from a restaurant just up the way."

"Good thing we're almost done," Mackenzie said.

"Problem is I have no cash on me," Hilton said, keeping his gaze out the window.

Mackenzie said nothing. Hilton ate the last few bites of his food and got up from the table. A different young woman was at the cash register receiving payment from an elderly couple for their mea.

The couple left shortly and Hilton walked up. "We haven't got a bill yet, but we need to get going. The table over there." He pointed to where Mackenzie was standing up.

"Oh, I'll go get Susie," the girl said.

Hilton hoped she would be quick as she hurried off or he might have to be a runner — and he didn't really want to be.

Mackenzie came up behind him and softly laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be out in the car, and I'll honk if they've left."

Hilton nodded and then turned to look to his right. No waitresses were heading in his direction. He glanced over his shoulder and watched Mackenzie walk toward the car with a subtle sashay that suddenly had him randy. Heaven help him. He knew her final answer, but he still hungered.

Quickly he snapped his gaze back toward the dining room, but saw no waitresses coming. How long did it take? They needed to get going. . . 

. . . There was motion in his peripheral vision and he turned around. A startled waitress was looking at their table.

"Over here," Hilton said, letting his irritation be known.

She looked up. "Oh! Thank goodness."

Quickly she hurried over and put their bill into the register. Apparently she hadn't been gotten. But it was paid for now. Hilton took the receipt and nodded to acknowledge the waitress' cheery farewell.

The horn sounded just as Hilton stepped out of the door. He looked both ways and saw the kidnappers' car's hind end go around the corner. Hilton quickly ran to the car, climbed in, and pulled off as quickly as possible.

He managed to catch sight of the car's hind end a couple more times before losing it entirely. He had no guesses as to where he should go. Swearing, he hit the steering wheel with the heel of his palm."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 13

Word Count: 78,008

Summary of Events:

Hilton and Mackenzie pursued the kidnappers out of Mexico City to Puebla where the kidnappers rallied some accomplices and ended up forcing Hilton and Mackenzie to flee from them. Somewhat lost, Hilton and Mackenzie rented another car and went for supper where a man they presumed to be from the CIA recognised them and started to chase after them. They found the kidnappers, who called in more accomplices with the apparent intent to get rid of Hilton and Mackenzie. Hilton successfully got rid of the first batch of accomplices and foiled the second batch for a moment . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

"She checked on the beater car again and saw that it was merging into traffic not far from them.

"The car from the bridge is behind us," Mackenzie said. "Watch out."

"Affirmative," Hilton said, as if he were piloting a fighter jet and had just been told that an enemy fighter was approaching.

Mackenzie had no idea what direction to look: there were the kidnappers they didn't want to lose, the accomplices and the CIA man they wanted to lose, goodness knew there could be more accomplices lurking in various corners, and CIA reinforcements could be coming at any time. She couldn't imagine how Hilton could handle this.

The accomplices were coming in fast. Mackenzie watched as they approached. She had a feeling they were going to try doing the same sort of thing as the previous group of accomplices had done.

She tried not to feel tense, she knew tension would only cause her to sustain whiplash or other musculature injuries if they were to get genuinely hit. She looked over at Hilton. He glanced up in the rearview mirror.

Mackenzie looked in her side view mirror. The accomplices hadn't caught up with them. Mackenzie wondered if the car was maxed out at the fastest it could go. They were alongside the CIA man.

After awhile the accomplices slowed and headed for an exit. Mackenzie smiled. Their car wasn't fast enough.

"We've lost them, they couldn't catch up to us," she said.

"It didn't exactly help that they were using a banger," Hilton said.

Mackenzie nodded and watched as the accomplices drove up onto a bridge.

"I think they're going to try and drop something on us again, though," she said.

Hilton made no comment. Mackenzie knew that something dropped from a bridge onto a vehicle could cause death. She hoped Hilton would be able to avoid whatever they were planning on dropping.

They flew under the bridge. She couldn't see the accomplices. Nothing obliterated their windshield. The CIA man was still following them, the kidnappers were still just ahead of them.

The kidnappers started exiting off. Mackenzie worked on taking deep breaths as Hilton guided them after the kidnappers, with the CIA man following like he was being towed.

Mackenzie wasn't finding herself relaxing very well, unfortunately, as they started down the narrow streets, twisting and turning. The CIA man kept after them just as closely as they kept after the kidnappers.

There appeared to be a rope across the road ahead. Mackenzie couldn't really tell, though. There didn't appear to be one once the kidnappers went through, but there was suddenly black liquid — it looked like paint — flowing across the road.

"Cunning they are," Hilton said.

"Why? What is that?" Mackenzie asked.

"Oil," Hilton replied.

The car moved suddenly. Mackenzie cried out — she couldn't help herself, she was terrified. They swerved around, but kept forward. Mackenzie watched with alarm out the rearview mirror as the CIA man hit the oil and promptly skidded off of the road into the corner of a building — which took the impact far better than the car."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 12

Word Count: 72,007

Summary of Events: 

Hilton and Mackenzie followed the kidnappers as they headed out of Durango and Mackenzie got in a texting conversation with her dad that left her feeling guilty. After several hours they reached Mexico City and twice nearly lost the kidnappers — although one attempt was deliberate by the kidnappers. Hilton switched into a different car to hide from the kidnappers and followed them throughout Mexico City, but started to get bored. Mackenzie was hungry, so Hilton sent her into a restaurant to get food. While she was gone a child came and asked Hilton for some money which a man tried to take from the child. Hilton ran to the child's defence, but several gunshots rang out . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Hilton stopped and looked at the man. In agony the man was writhing on the ground, clutching his leg. Looking over his shoulder, Hilton saw the rear window on the driver's side of the kidnappers' car was open and the kidnapper was reloading.

He needed to run. Looking around, Hilton didn't see anywhere worth hiding. And he really ought to get back to the car, too. He had a feeling the kidnappers now knew he was following them again.

But he didn't have time to dally around, he needed to get out of here and get out of here now, otherwise he was going to be writhing on the ground like the man who'd been trying to accost the child.

Picking a direction, Hilton started off. Shots rang out at him. He didn't see any dust kicked up by the shots hitting the ground anywhere. Ducking behind a tree, he heard splintering as more shots rang out.

There was a pause. Hilton sprinted across the street and vaulted overtop of a car parked at the side of the road behind where his car was located. He crouched beside the car and waited.

Mackenzie came out of the restaurant and climbed into the car. He had a feeling she was feeling startled right about now, but he hoped she would stay where she was. It would be far safer if she did.

Looking over the bonnet of the car he was hiding beside, Hilton saw a black-clad man with a gun in hand slowly walking. Hilton started tacking stock of places to run. He spied a gap between two nearby buildings.

Glancing over at the kidnapper again, Hilton saw he was getting closer, and he looked like he was going to fire on sight. Hilton didn't think leaping up and running would be a good idea. But staying still wouldn't be good either.

Hilton closed his eyes and thought. He needed some kind of idea of what he should do. He wasn't getting anything. He looked over at the kidnapper again. The kidnapper was pretty close now. He had to do something.

Surging up from against the car, Hilton bolted for the gap between the buildings. He heard the inevitable shots behind him, and saw little explosions where the shots hit the ground around him.

Some material splintered off the sides of the buildings as Hilton ran. He needed to get back to the car before Mackenzie panicked. He needed to get to the car so that he could get away.

Cutting around the back of the left building, Hilton powered toward the street. A horn honked, but Hilton kept running, heading for the car. He had to get to the car, and he had to do it now.

The car was in sight, as was the driver of the kidnappers' car. Hilton stopped abruptly. He felt pinned. He needed to do something. Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair and strode calmly to the car.

Climbing inside, he buckled himself in."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 11

Word Count: 66,014

Summary of Events:

Hilton didn't sleep, and was tormented by the temptation of Mackenzie's sleeping figure, unable to stop thinking about her and eventually kissed her. When Mackenzie woke up Hilton confessed to kissing her and demonstrated for her, which she found a stunning experience. They went out for brunch where Hilton noticed that one of the waitresses was being threatened and came to her defence. After they finished eating they found and followed the kidnappers, who appeared to have figured out they were being followed and tried to scare Hilton and Mackenzie off.

Excerpt of the Day:

"The waitress was standing at one table, whose occupants Hilton couldn't see, and she looked like she was uncomfortable. He could hear aggravated voices coming from the table, and he didn't like that either.

A figure surged up from the table and grabbed the waitress by her shoulder roughly, it looked like he was holding a knife to her throat. Hilton went to get up, but stopped at Mackenzie's touch.

"Leave it alone," she said.

"No," Hilton replied, pulling his arm out from her hand.

He got fully to his feet, ran the two steps to cross the space between their table and the booth table behind which the angry men were hiding, leapt up onto the edge of the booth seat on his side with one foot, used his other foot to propel himself off the table and into the air.

A cry sounded and the man with the knife turned, angling his blade, ready to strike Hilton. Reaching out his hand, Hilton wrapped it around the wrist of the man's knife hand as he came down.

Due to the man's position on the booth bench Hilton ended up going down and flipping over. His legs hit hard and he felt something sharp on his cheek: the knife, he was sure.

Hilton pulled his left arm away from himself — taking the man's knife hand with it — and felt a stinging pain across his cheek. He wrenched the man's hand until he heard a metallic clatter and the man cried in agony.

Pushing himself up, Hilton snapped his hand out and took the knife. He spun it around in his fingers and aimed it at the man. The man reached out his hand for Hilton's wrist, but Hilton succeeded in getting the knife up to the man's throat.

Quickly he used his free hand to pin the man's shoulder to the floor. He lowered himself down so his face was in the man's face, his eyes locked on the man's eyes, his teeth bared.

"That is no way to treat a woman," Hilton growled.

The man gazed at Hilton with wide, somewhat wild eyes.

Hilton's left hand slipped a little.

The man uttered a shriek that caused Hilton to recoil. He saw drops of blood on the man's face like they'd fallen from somewhere.

Instantly Hilton reached up his right hand and touched his left cheek. It came away red. That explained the stinging.

Hilton backed off with the knife and saw a thin red line across the man's neck.

"I should hope you don't forget this," Hilton said, collecting himself to sit on his knees.

"No sir," the man said, shaking his head vehemently, his body trembling.

Hilton got to his feet, keeping his hold secure on the knife."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 10

Word Count: 60,026

Summary of Events:

The kidnapper wounded in the accident left the hospital alone on foot, so Hilton and Mackenzie followed him to the airport. They split up so Hilton could return the rental car and Mackenzie could find out what the kidnappers were up to. Before the flight could take off a man got upset at Hilton for trying to rejoin Mackenzie and they got into a fight. Mackenzie found out her dad was worried about her being as she finally turned her cell phone back on. They ended up in Durango, where they nearly lost the kidnappers at the airport.

Excerpt of the Day:

"The kidnappers were met by a man who appeared to have been expecting them, yet wasn't clad in black. They talked for a moment and the man removed his hat and bowed his head for a moment before leading them on. It looked like they were circumventing customs or something.

Hilton quickly hurried after them as they wove through the people and then through a side door. Hilton caught the door before it closed and slid Mackenzie through. The din of the airport crowd faded as the door closed.

Footsteps were rapidly moving ahead of them. Hilton quickly moved after them and soon caught sight of the kidnappers. It appeared they were in a hurry. They were definitely circumventing customs.

When they slowed Hilton started slowing. There was speaking in Spanish, but Hilton didn't fully understand it. Of course, they were in Mexico, which meant they were speaking Latin American Spanish.

It clicked. Hilton stopped. Mackenzie kept going and tugged on his hand, looking at him with puzzlement. In Estonia, that woman Dr. Haner had been talking to had been speaking to him in Latin American Spanish. That was why he hadn't understood it.

Mackenzie mouthed to him to come on, Hilton started moving again and soon took the lead from Mackenzie, hurrying after the kidnappers, but not being too close to them, lest they be found out.

A sign with illuminated red letters that spelled out exit in Spanish was ahead of them, the kidnappers were making for it and were shown out by the man they'd met. Hilton tightened his grip on Mackenzie's hand and started running faster.

Mackenzie seemed to be keeping up with him even as he ran, she wasn't pulling on his hand at all. The man who'd met the kidnappers turned and looked at them with puzzlement. He then moved to block the door.

Hilton bent his head down. He didn't care how much it hurt, he was getting out of this building before the kidnappers were lost. His shoulder hit the man somewhere, then he heard the click of the door's push bar and the door opened.

Daylight and airport noise was all around them and they were successfully outside. Hilton looked around. The kidnappers were down the way climbing into a car that Hilton felt had obviously been waiting for them.

He glued his eyes to the number plate as the car pulled off and made for the car park, full of traffic, likely to be lost. He wanted to swear, but he held is tongue. They were lost, he was sure.

"Let's go get a car," Mackenzie said, not sounding terribly tired from the run. "Hopefully we'll find them soon."

Hilton sighed. He really had no other choice, so he started toward the front of the airport to get a car."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 9

Word Count: 54,004

Summary of Events:

Hilton and Mackenzie followed the kidnappers to Pljevlja, where they stopped to fuel up. The kidnappers couldn't figure out how the Montenegrin gas pump worked, and Hilton tried to take advantage of their distraction to pick up Dr. Haner, but the kidnappers noticed and shot at them, forcing them to flee without Dr. Haner. Mackenzie got freaked out by getting shot at and so Hilton stopped to settle her down and see what sort of damage they'd incurred. He then started after the kidnappers, who'd decided to steal a car and were hotly pursued by police until they threw some kind of explosive into the police car. Hilton and Mackenzie then chased the kidnappers all the way to Podgorica, where the kidnappers wrecked their stolen car and one was taken to the hospital.

Excerpt of the Day:

"There was something a little bit beyond them. A difference in the landscape. Hilton couldn't tell what it was from this distance, but he had a feeling they were approaching another town.

Hilton had no idea what town it would be; he had no idea where in Montenegro they were — or if they were even still in Montenegro. For all he knew they could be in Albania, Macedonia, Serbia, or Greece; they could've even turned around and gone back into Bosnia the way these roads turned and switched back.

The kidnappers were rapidly approaching the town. Hilton was going to need to speed up again to catch up with them. He pressed down on the accelerator slowly to bring up the speed.

There were some curves ahead in the road, though. Hilton was going to have to be careful. They could leave the road and plough into a mountainside before they could blink if he made the wrong move.

Glancing down at the speedometer, Hilton released the accelerator slightly. He didn't dare go any faster. It would be close enough for them to make it at this speed, to go any faster would be a death wish.

The kidnappers were nearly at the town. Hilton still felt he was too far behind them, but he didn't want to drive any faster, lest he make the subtlest wrong move and dissolve the car into a flaming wreckage of a grave.

Finally the road straightened as it approached the town. Hilton put his foot down on the accelerator as far as possible. The car picked up speed. As soon as it'd reached the highest speed the motor was capable of Hilton started the reverse process, lifting his foot off of the accelerator. The momentum would carry them.

The kidnappers turned a corner. Hilton swore under his breath. He hoped they wouldn't turn another corner and disappear before he could catch them.

Arriving at the corner, Hilton cut it as sharp as possible and scanned the roadway for a red car bearing the plate number he'd memorized. He didn't find anything. He swore under his breath again. They'd lost them."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 8

Word Count: 48,019

Summary of Events:

Hilton decided to get the rear window of the car repaired before returning it to the rental company, so while they waited for the window to be fixed he and Mackenzie wandered around Moscow a bit and found the truck he'd sabotaged, and found out all he'd taken out was the lights and the horn. The truck dropped of Dr. Haner and the kidnappers at a hotel — into which Hilton decided to check Mackenzie and himself. One of the kidnappers left later on and Hilton followed him to the airport where he got tickets to fly to Sarajevo. After Hilton had a white night he and Mackenzie flew to Sarajevo. They had brunch in Sarajevo before driving off through the Bosnian — and eventually Montenegrin — countryside.

Excerpt of the Day:

"Feeling immensely better, Hilton turned to leave the stall and found that the door wouldn't open. He wasn't sure why it would be stuck, but it was, and he couldn't get it open.

"Bloody lock," he muttered.

He set one hand on the top edge of either stall wall and readied himself. Fixing his gaze on the lock, he lowered himself, then surged up, using the extra momentum to aid his arms in lifting himself, and then threw his feet at the door.

///

Instantly Mackenzie's head whipped around to look at the washroom entryways. A loud and somewhat metallic boom had just sounded from them. She heard running footsteps and foreign pardons that turned her to look away from the door to see one of the kidnappers emerge from the crowd, looking wide-eyed and panicked.

He didn't go into the washroom, looking at it hesitantly. Another boom sounded; Mackenzie felt the crowd was getting slower and quieter, wondering what in the world was going on, as she was.

The kidnapper stepped forward a little bit, but still couldn't seem to bring himself to go inside. Mackenzie thought the sound was like stall doors being slammed open.

A boom quickly followed by a gunshot-like crack sounded. Things got even quieter on the outside. Mackenzie hoped Hilton hadn't been shot. She heard a very serious-sounding announcement over the PA system quite clearly. She wondered if they were calling in security.

The next sound that came from the washroom heightened Mackenzie's sense of nervousness, despite its normalcy. Someone in the washroom was washing their hands. She then heard the paper towel ripping. Was the killer cleaning his hands?

After a few more seconds an unruffled, calm, cool, and collected Hilton emerged from the washroom like absolutely nothing had happened. People seemed to be somewhat relieved, but they were still uneasy. Mackenzie felt like she was going to collapse she was trembling so badly.

Hilton took up his bag and ushered Mackenzie more into the crowd while the kidnapper finally got the courage to go into the men's washroom.

"What happened in there?" Mackenzie asked.

"I went for a swim," Hilton replied dryly.

"No, I'm serious Hilton," Mackenzie protested. "What was with all the crashing around and that sound like someone fired a gun and everything?"

"The lock on the door to my toilet stall got stuck," Hilton replied, as if it were a trivial, everyday occurrence.

"And what was all the crashing?" Mackenzie asked.

"I had to get out," Hilton replied. "We don't exactly want to lose the kidnappers — although it appears that they were behind us."

"So what did you do?" Mackenzie asked.

"I kicked the door until the lock broke," Hilton replied.

"That doesn't seem like a terribly British thing to do," Mackenzie said.

"I'm sorry I don't keep up with the stereotypes," Hilton muttered."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 7

Word Count: 42,020

Summary of Events:

The kidnappers' car was finally repaired, but only one person got into it. Hilton and Mackenzie followed him to where he picked up three more kidnappers and Dr. Haner, and then headed out of St. Petersburg. As they drove Mackenzie checked the latest developments the investigators had and found that they had Hilton as a suspect — which wasn't entirely surprising — but had no name for her yet. After a surprisingly lengthy drive they arrived in Moscow where they followed the kidnappers — nearly losing them once — to where they were changing vehicles, however it seemed like their attempt at destroying the car they'd been using failed, giving Hilton an opportunity to sabotage their getaway vehicle.

Excerpt of the Day:

"He pushed away from the wall and ran over to the lorry. As quietly as possible he opened the door and looked inside for a lever to tip the cab and expose the engine. He didn't find one.

Closing the door, he searched around until he found something and tried it. The cab tipped. The engine looked in terrifying shape. Hilton didn't want to touch it without gloves on, but the only gloves he had were his driving gloves, and the last thing he wanted to do was compromise their grip by getting oil on them.

Sliding his sleeves up his forearms, Hilton looked over the engine, trying to figure out how everything was organized. A shout startled him and he looked up. One of the men had emerged from the building at last. Hilton noticed now that smoke was billowing out of the place.

Seizing hold of a handful of cords, Hilton gave them a hard yank. Most of them tore free. He heard more shouting, then there was the sound of a gunshot. He had a feeling the shot landed in the engine block.

Turning, he bolted away from the lorry and into the nearest door as more shots were fired. Charging through the building, he could only see the windows, so he made for them and found to his dismay that none of them opened.

Hilton searched around in the dimness. He found something cool and metallic. It was heavy too, but not too large. It felt like a sizeable wrench. He stepped back from the windows, took aim at the one furthest to his right, whipped himself around like a shot-putter, and threw the object.

The momentum of the throw caused him to fall down, but he heard the sound of shattering and a bloodcurdling female scream.

Hilton managed to push himself to his feet and made for the window. There were jagged edges on the bottom. He groped around for another object and found something small that he used to smash most of the glass off — and found it was a surprising reach to get to the window.

Once he was sure he had enough space, he hefted himself into the window opening and looked. Mackenzie was nowhere to be seen. The car was unharmed, but covered in glass shards.

Hilton tossed himself out of the window and winced when he felt the window frame bite into his hands. He looked at his palms as blood slowly started to ooze from the right one by his littlest finger. The rest of it was all just red and sore.

More gunshots rang out. He didn't have time to look for Mackenzie. He ran to the car and climbed inside. Starting it up, he pulled off quickly and made for a nearby side street.

The rear window of the car exploded into a white mass of cracks just before he made the turn."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 6

Word Count: 36,002

Summary of Events:

Hilton and Mackenzie followed the kidnappers to Narva, where they lost the kidnappers, but found their car in flames; the kidnappers then tried to run them down, so they hailed a taxi to pursue the kidnappers — being as they'd returned the rental car. They were taken as far as the Russian border and then left to walk. A young Russian woman offered to take them to St. Petersburg and on the way they spotted the kidnappers' car being hooked up to a tow truck, so they went to St. Petersburg, rented another car, found out where the kidnappers' car was being repaired, and set up to wait for the kidnappers to emerge. Hilton got them brunch while they waited.

Excerpt of the Day:

""I think I figured it out," Mackenzie said.

"I didn't know there was a puzzle," Hilton said, delaying his next mouthful.

There was a silence. Hilton was pretty sure Mackenzie was chewing. He put his mouthful into his mouth, taking advantage of the silence.

"I felt like there needed to be more things to cause the person you talked to on the phone to give you this address than your rusty Russian skills," Mackenzie said. "And I think I figured it out."

Hilton swallowed. "And what is it?"

"The kidnappers aren't Russian," Mackenzie replied.

Hilton furrowed his brow as he chewed. Why would they come to Russia if they weren't Russian then? He emptied his mouth again. "But then why are they here?"

"Maybe to throw people off," Mackenzie replied. "Make people think they're Russian and start searching Russia, instead of where they're actually going."

"Which is?" Hilton asked.

"To be determined by the two of us as we follow them," Mackenzie replied.

Hilton nodded. That was true. He couldn't have expected Mackenzie to figure out more than that, she wasn't exactly a computer.

"Why do you think that the kidnappers not being Russian would make them give me the information?" he asked after awhile.

"Because a Russian wouldn't exactly call a friend who isn't familiar with Russia to help them when they've been in an accident," she replied. "They would call a friend who knew the place, or a family member, or they'd walk."

"But wouldn't they think that I should've been given the address by my friend?" he asked.

"Not necessarily, especially if the friend is a foreigner," she replied. "Because they would probably be a little dazed and confused and may not know the address, or may not know how Russian addresses are written, or how to pronounce Russian words."

Hilton shifted his jaw. That did make sense, he had to admit.

"But why would a foreigner call a foreign friend for aid?" Hilton asked.

"Because they don't have any Russian friends," Mackenzie replied. "It could be a group of friends who decided to go on vacation together in Russia and split up into two vehicles or were coming from two separate places to meet each other in Russia and begin their vacation."

"It works," Hilton said. "Although it doesn't really matter, we got the information, that's what's important."

"Are you sure it's the right information, though?" Mackenzie asked.

"Why?" Hilton asked.

"We've been waiting for a half an hour and haven't seen anything," Mackenzie replied.

"Car repairs don't exactly take five minutes," Hilton replied. "If it's a puncture we're probably getting close, depending on if it was a blowout our not, a blowout might take longer.""

Treacherous Impulses: Day 5

Word Count: 30,003

Summary of Events:

Hilton and Mackenzie ran into Hilton's agent at the Milan airport; Hilton refused to cooperate with his agent's request, but gave him the keys to the car they'd rented so as to return it to Brussels. While they flew Hilton planned their attempt to warn Dr. Haner — in which he would accompany Mackenzie. After getting their hotel room they went and got disguised. They got to Dr. Haner, but thanks to Brian the fifth recognizing Hilton and telling Dr. Haner's brother, Robert, they were found out anyways, yet succeeded in passing on the warning which was quite obviously not taken seriously. Sirens woke Mackenzie at four in the morning and so as to alleviate her fears she checked the news sites and found Dr. Haner had been kidnapped. She woke Hilton and they began their search . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

"Mackenzie looked over at Hilton. He seemed wide awake now, and his gaze was intently on the road, yet there was also a bit of excitement in his entire composure. Like this was fun to him. Like he was enjoying himself.

He whipped around the traffic circle and kept going past the turn to the hotel. Then he started to slow down to a more respectable speed.

"Where are we going?" Mackenzie asked.

"We're going to look around and see what we can find," Hilton replied quickly. "A sign of the kidnappers maybe."

"I doubt we'll have any more than the police," Mackenzie said.

"What do we have?" Hilton asked.

"What I learned from CNN," Mackenzie replied.

"Which is?" Hilton asked.

"Dr. Haner's tour manager, Walter Sitzler — who I think might be the skinny man — went out for a smoke. When he came back Dr. Haner's light was on, so he knocked to see if Dr. Haner was still up, and why. No answer. So he went to the front desk and got help. They opened the door and found no sign of Dr. Haner, but evidence of a struggle," Mackenzie replied.

"What sort of evidence?" Hilton asked. "Did they say anything about blood?"

"I don't remember," Mackenzie replied.

"Well look," Hilton said.

"My phone bill's going to be terrifying with all this data roaming," Mackenzie said.

"Fine, use mine," Hilton said, pulling his phone out of his breast pocket and throwing it onto her lap.

Mackenzie turned it on. It needed a passcode. She handed it back. Hilton typed in the code and passed it back.

Selecting the internet browser app, Mackenzie typed in CNN to search and selected the main page. There was a new article on Dr. Haner's disappearance already: Missing American Sociologist Kidnapped.

According to the article Robert Haner had given a statement along with Tallinn Police that, based on the evidence at the scene of the crime, Dr. Haner had been kidnapped after violently struggling with, and even succeeding in wounding, his kidnapper.

"It says that Dr. Haner wounded his kidnapper," Mackenzie said.

"Or maybe the kidnapper wounded Dr. Haner," Hilton said. "I doubt forensics works that fast."

"Yeah," Mackenzie agreed. "Maybe Robert doesn't want to think of his brother as bleeding."

"He wrote the article?" Hilton asked.

"No," Mackenzie replied. "But he gave a statement with Tallinn Police, probably because he's exCIA."

"Probably," Hilton agreed.

Mackenzie kept reading.

Robert Haner was quoted as saying that they already had two suspects, a male and a female, whom they were trying to locate.

"Oh great," Mackenzie said.

"What?" Hilton asked.

"I think Robert Haner thinks we kidnapped Dr. Haner," Mackenzie replied.

"Oh?" Hilton asked.

"Here's what he said: 'We've been having some suspicious encounters over this tour which have led us and the investigators to believe that we already have our suspects, a male and a female; we're not certain as to their identities or location yet, but are seeking to pinpoint their location and bring them in for questioning.'""

Treacherous Impulses: Day 4

Word Count: 24,004

Summary of Events:

Hilton and Mackenzie drove to Milan, trying to think of a way to get Dr. Haner the warning. Hilton ended up running into a lost and confused Brian the fifth — Dr. Haner's son — and decided to help him get directions to where he was going, along with passing on the warning; unfortunately things didn't go so well. Mackenzie then decided to try and talk to Dr. Haner pretending to be a reporter again, but was once again unsuccessful.

Excerpt of the Day:

""Hey, that's the reporter from Belgium," a different voice said as Mackenzie rolled down the window.

She turned and looked. Brian the fifth was gazing at her with an astonished look of recognition. He turned to Hilton suddenly and roughly put a hand into Hilton's shoulder, turning him away from the car.

"What are you doing with her?" Brian demanded angrily.

"With whom?" Hilton asked.

"That reporter," Brian replied, jabbing his finger at Mackenzie.

"Nothing sinister, I can assure you," Hilton replied.

"Why is she with you?" Brian demanded.

"Because I'm chauffeuring her around," Hilton replied.

Brian looked at Hilton with puzzlement, then he looked over at Mackenzie. He turned back to Hilton with what seemed to be a renewed sense of infuriation.

"You think you're some kind of James Bond, don't you?" Brian snapped. "Some suave Brit with a double o number and a license to kill and a hot woman on your arm."

"No," Hilton replied, gazing at Brian with his brow furrowed in confusion.

"You think you have it all, don't you!" Brian shouted. "Well I'm going to show you!"

Mackenzie uttered a cry when Brian shoved Hilton. Hilton staggered back, but kept his balance and put out an arm to protect himself.

Brian grabbed Hilton's wrist and wrenched his arm around, causing Hilton to cry out and fire a hard kick at Brian's shin.

Brian returned the favour, dropping Hilton to one knee. He then released Hilton's arm and seized hold right close to Hilton's neck with one hand, while rearing the other back to deliver a blow to Hilton's head.

Hilton managed to surge himself upward and drive his head into Brian's ribcage, which sent them both reeling a bit.

Brian recovered first, grabbed Hilton's collar in his fist, and delivered several heavy rights to Hilton's cheekbone. Hilton swung at air and staggered before going down somewhat slowly — thanks to Brian hanging on.

Rearing back his hand, Brian prepared to deliver more blows to Hilton's head. Mackenzie unlocked the door and hurried out of the car. She shoved Brian over and pried his hand off of Hilton's shirt.

"What do you think you're doing!?" she screamed. "Hilton didn't do a thing to deserve that! That was completely uncalled for! I can't believe you! Get out of here!"

Brian, stunned and looking somewhat devastated, scrambled to his feet and hurried away. Mackenzie dropped down beside Hilton. He was still conscious, but he looked quite groggy."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 3

Word Count: 18,009

Summary of Events:

Hilton and Mackenzie set out in their car to drive to Marseille; in their conversation Mackenzie learned that Hilton was a professional driver, which she found highly interesting. They stopped for lunch in Paris before continuing on. At their hotel they discussed their plan and Hilton came up with Mackenzie posing as a socialite and getting Dr. Haner's son to take her to meet him. They rented an evening gown, got her hair done, and got her to the hall. Inside, Mackenzie succeeded in getting all the way to Dr. Haner without seeing his son . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

""You seem rather young to have an interest in such academics, my dear," Dr. Haner said.

"Well, I don't," Mackenzie admitted.

Dr. Haner stopped abruptly and turned to look at her with appall. "You don't have an interest in academics?"

"No," Mackenzie replied.

"Then what are you doing here?" Dr. Haner asked.

"Well, I've come to tell you something," Mackenzie replied.

"Hey!" someone exclaimed. "Brian!"

Dr. Haner startled and looked toward the voice. A very American-looking man walked up and Dr. Haner seemed to recognize him. He released Mackenzie and went over to embrace the man.

The two men spoke with animation. Mackenzie shifted her jaw, determined to follow after him and try again, when a firm hand settled on her shoulder. She turned. It was the uncle — whose resemblance to Dr. Haner she could see now quite strikingly.

"You look familiar," the uncle said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mackenzie replied. "I've never seen you before."

"Don't like to me," the uncle said firmly, his face going stony. "I saw you recognize me."

"I was surprised, you look a lot like Dr. Haner," Mackenzie replied.

"That's what you get when you're brother's with someone," the uncle said. "But you've seen me before."

"No I haven't," Mackenzie replied.

"I've worked for the CIA," he said. "I've worked in interrogation. I can tell when people are lying, and you, Miss Thomas, are lying."

Mackenzie didn't say anything, she merely gave him an arrogant glare.

"You can't hide from me Miss Thomas," he said. "I'm also good at facial recognition, and you're the same desperate reporter who came to visit last night."

"Last night?" Mackenzie asked. "Why, I was dining here in Marseille last night, and then I spent an intimate evening with my dear friend."

"Dear friend who?" he demanded.

"James Sheahan," Mackenzie replied.

"Fancy name," he said. "But you're not pulling the wool over my eyes missy. Let's go."

He wrapped his substantial hand around her upper arm and rather roughly escorted her to the door and out.

"Good night Miss Thomas," he said. "I should hope we don't see you again in Milan."

The door closed firmly. Mackenzie crossed her arms. Part of her wanted to throw a tantrum, and part of her wanted to crumple into a ball and sob.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened herself and thrust her shoulders back. They would be off to Milan in the morning and she'd have to come up with a better disguise that would absolutely fool Dr. Haner's brother."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 2

Word Count: 12,014

Summary of Events:

Mackenzie discovered Hilton was on her flight to Brussels, which upset her. Hilton booked a hotel room for them — she made sure it had two beds — and she got upset at him for being so presumptuous. Mackenzie settled down, however, and they went for lunch, where she told Hilton she wanted to warn Dr. Haner about what she'd found on Wikipedia for the sake of his kids, which unsettled Hilton. Hilton drove the ring road around Brussels nearly one and a half circuits before he was able to settle down again. After sightseeing in Brussels Hilton dropped Mackenzie off at the place Dr. Haner was giving his lecture where she managed to find his 'dressing room' in which were three men that weren't him, and one who was intent to deny her access to Dr. Haner even though she was pretending to be a reporter . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""I must have a personal interview with him," Mackenzie said, thrusting her chin upward defiantly — not that she had to look up much to meet the first man's gaze.

"It will not be granted," the first man replied, furrowing his bushy brows over his eyes, narrowing them so far she could barely see where his pupils were.

"Why must it be a personal interview?" the second man asked.

"Oh go away Brian!" the first man roared, turning to address the second man. "It's bad enough trying to get rid of her without you encouraging her to wheedle her way inside!"

Brian. Dr. Haner's oldest son's name was Brian. She recalled that from the Wikipedia article. Dr. Haner was Brian Kevin Richard Haner the fourth, and his oldest son was Brian Kevin Richard Haner the fifth.

The first man and Brian were off on their own argument about calling Brian by that name now. Brian was vehemently insisting the first man call him Ricky, but the first man was insisting on calling him Brian.

Mackenzie looked over at the third man, a longer, narrower figure than the other two, he had thinning grey-brown hair combed over what had already gone bald, and appeared to be watching the scene between the other two men with amusement.

He swung his gaze over to Mackenzie, his blue eyes glittering with mirth. "His uncle wants him to grow up more than his father does."

Mackenzie glanced over at the bickering pair, who both had death grips on each other's collars and were screaming into each other's faces. Mackenzie wasn't sure about the third man, otherwise she might've made a dash onward into the room to try and find Dr. Haner.

"I will say though, darling," the third man said. "I don't see why you need to have a personal interview with Brian, unless you want to bore yourself to tears."

Mackenzie opened her mouth to pass the warning on to the third man, but she stopped herself when the third man stepped forward, a hunger in his eyes much akin to that she'd seen in Hilton's eyes the night before, except stronger, and much more terrifying.

"I would be much more entertaining, I think," he said, his voice having lowered to a near guttural rumble as he reached out and fingered her jaw.

Mackenzie didn't want to take a step back, but the last thing she wanted to do was remain there either. His fingers felt too smooth over her cheek, not at all like her father's, not at all like a hardworking man's hands.

"Such baby soft skin you have," he whispered lowly. "Is it that way everywhere?"

Mackenzie leapt back and bolted out the door. Dr. Haner was going to have to get his warning in Marseille. She was not staying in there any longer."

Treacherous Impulses: Day 1

Word Count: 6,032

Summary of Events:

Hilton was taking advantage of the hotel restaurant to dine in and saw Mackenzie come in; he couldn't resist switching tables to go talk with her because of her beauty and learned why she was in London. Mackenzie didn't mind getting the opportunity to talk about things with someone who seemed to take her seriously, but got a little unsettled by Hilton's gaze as their dinner went on. Hilton escorted her to her hotel room, but got thwarted when he tried to surreptitiously sneak inside. He dreamt of her that night — being rudely interrupted by his agent calling and so reluctantly went off to the ad shoot he was in London for, where he told the director that he wanted to the entire shoot at fifty five miles an hour . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""One take," Hilton said flatly.

"One take!?" the director cried. "You expect us to get this done in one take!?"

"Yes," Hilton replied.

"At fifty five!?" the director exclaimed.

"Yes," Hilton replied.

"What's with the bloody hurry?" the director asked.

"I need to be out of here at ten," Hilton replied.

"It's only half eight! We can't get all the shots we need in an hour and a half!" the director protested.

"That's all you have. I won't be late for my flight," Hilton replied.

"Flight? What flight? Your agent said nothing about this!" the director exclaimed.

"He doesn't know about it," Hilton replied. "Are your cameras ready? Or are you going to spend your precious minutes protesting how this cannot possibly be done?"

The director mouthed, but emitted no sound; finally he turned and started shouting to the cameramen and assistant directors and that menagerie of other personnel involved in filming the brief footage to advertise the car.

Hilton plucked the map from the director's hand and strode over to the low, sleek, charcoal grey sports car. Opening the door, he slid inside, set the map beside him, and slid his gloves on.

Fastening the belt, he relaxed in the seat and took hold of the key. He turned it enough for the console lights to come on. He pressed the radio and tuned into the frequency the director was using to cue. He turned the volume down when the director's shouting came blaring through the speakers.

"Cameras ready?" the director cried.

"Ready," the cameramen replied in disunity.

"Rolling!" the director cried.

"Rolling," came the reply, no more unified than the prior.

"Action!" the director cried.

Hilton turned they key fully and the car roared to life. He counted down in his head, settling his left hand on the gear lever, starting over the sleek bonnet at the road ahead of him.

The instant he hit one he pulled the lever down to drive and put his foot to the floor, causing the speed and RPM needles to surge across their dials. He reached fifty five in seconds and held his speed, manoeuvring around the course with smooth motion.

He stared dead ahead, watching camera after camera flash by out his peripheral vision, some lenses moving with his passing, some remaining exactly as they were before and after.

An audible gasp came from the cameraman in the backseat as Hilton whipped a tight turn at the high speed as they got near to the bridge on which the shoot would end. Hilton palmed the wheel around another corner and into the curve leading up to the bridge.

He tore past the final camera sitting in the middle of the other lane and lightened his pressure on the accelerator, sliding his hand over to the handbrake as he neared the end of the bridge where pylons and barriers kept traffic off for the sake of the shoot.

The cameraman's breathing accelerated the closer they got to the barrier. Hilton smiled and snapped the handbrake back, whipping the hind end of the car around and leaving them facing the camera at a complete stop."

January Novel Essential Information

Novel Title: Treacherous Impulses

Time Setting: 2016

Genre: Thriller

Minimum Word Goal: 120,000

Timespan: June 4-22

Locations: London, England; Brussels, Belgium; Marseille, France; Milan, Italy; Tallinn and Narva, Estonia; St. Petersburg and Moscow, Russia; Zenica and Sarajevo, Bosnia and Hercegovina; Pljevlja and Podgorica, Montenegro; Durango, Mexico City, and Puebla, Mexico; Belize City, Belize; Havana, Cuba; Nassau, Bahamas; Valparaíso, Chile; Cochabamba and Sucre, Bolivia; Córdoba, Argentina; Salto, Rivera, and Montevideo, Uruguay

Main Characters: Hilton James-Sheahan, Mackenzie Blackbear

Background Information: 

The grandson of a finance magnate on his father's side and a prominent scientist in the field of metal studies on his mother's side, Hilton has lived in the high social circles of Manchester his entire life; but all has not been pleasure. Hilton's parents divorced when he was five, and his mother won custody, which she used to restrict contact with his father — for all of five years — although she largely neglected him.

In part due to the sour relations with his mother, Hilton's occupational pursuit is rather atypical of high society, but no one can dispute the fact that it is his passion: driving. He is a professional driver, one of the most renowned in the business, and considered largely self-taught. His most favourite driving experience was doing the stunt driving in a James Bond film, although his most common employer is Aston Martin — a job that comes with a complimentary car annually if he wants it.

Mackenzie is a part First Nations Canadian from the vast wilderness of Yukon Territory where she has lived with her family for all her life, and intends to live for the rest of her days, being as she loves the wilderness — thus it's only natural for her to work for a wilderness tour company — the quiet, and the privacy.

However, she has recently given up the wilderness, quiet, and privacy of the Yukon for the crowded, noisy, and not terribly private city of London, as one of her childhood friends who is taking secondary education in England is feeling rather homesick.

They've been having a pretty good time exploring the city — which Mackenzie must admit is legitimately interesting — however, the one evening her friend was feeling ill, so Mackenzie let her friend rest and spent her evening looking around on Wikipedia, where she found the strangest thing . . .