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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hey I'm back with another fic. If you like this plez leave me a comment & I'll continue it. Not sure if it's any good so let me know if I should add to it.
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“What do you think our chances are?” Sucre’s voice was hushed, barely a whisper.
“I don’t know…can you see her?” Michael leaned closer to the crack in the wooden structure, peeking through the opening trying to see inside.
“No papi…sorry,” his tone was resigned to failure as if finding Sara was an impossible quest. Michael didn’t agree with his assessment of the situation and was committed to the task in hand. After the young doctor had left his motel room Michael had followed her outside and seen her abduction. Once he collected Fernando the challenge was set – saving Sara was this only option. He had followed the car to this abandoned warehouse but that was the last sighting he had of her. Fear was rushing through him, the unknown was always a difficult concept for Michael Scofield to accept and this situation was no different.

“Maybe they left while you came to get me, its possible, right?” Sucre could sense that his friend was getting lost in his thoughts. In Foxriver he had witnessed that a lot.
“I guess so…” the realisation that he may have failed her again was painful, “…wait… can you see that?” A flicker of light in the far corner of the building suddenly caught Michael’s attention.
“What is that?” Sucre peered through the opening trying to make out the illuminated area of the room.

The ropes chaffed Sara’s wrists as she twisted her arms trying to free herself – a struggle she quickly realised was a waste of her time. The tape fastened across her mouth left her silent though she doubted that words could free her of this entrapment. It appeared that this was the end, her fate was finally revealed. Murder, death by the hands of another – strange irony when she thought about it! Mere weeks ago she was trying to end her own life, to self-destruct. Right now though she would give anything to ensure that she lived another day – strange how survival can give meaning back to life.

Paul busied himself in the shadows searching for some un-identified object. The gun tucked into his waistband gleamed in the light from the torch. Sara watched him intently; the fear that crippled her earlier was now replaced by anger, anger that her life had somehow come apart again after years of rehabilitation. So many times in the past she had faced death – usually of her own accord – but this time it wasn’t her own doing and the prospect of being some random murder victim infuriated her.

“Aha there you are!” Paul announced as he retrieved something from the dark and dusted it off. Sara shifted her weight to one side in order to identify the item. Fear gripped the doctor causing her throat to tighten. Paul turned on his heel to face Sara, an eerie smile dancing on his face. “Don’t worry…I’ve done this before…will be over in a jiffy,” Paul pulled up an old rotting wooden chair and set it in front of Sara, “you know we wouldn’t have to use this. All you have to do is tell me what our good friend the Governor gave you, simple as that.” Paul smiled widely as he reached up and tucked a stray rib of hair behind Sara’s ear. The contact made her shiver. Kellerman removed the gag and waited for her response. Sara ran her tongue across her lips the taste of the glue was strong but she fought the urge to throw up. After re-gaining her composure Sara met Paul’s eyes sternly, “Go to hell!”
Chapter End Notes:
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