#TeaserTuesday: Mistaken Identity

From a bit farther on in Kolya:

After an elevator, more walking, and several turns, when Kolya had no idea where he was besides on a floor lower than where he’d started, the cart stopped and the assassin knocked on a door. After a minute he knocked again. Someone on the other side shouted. Then Kolya heard the door open; the cart moved a few steps and stopped. He heard the door close. Shit! Accomplice, and in a hotel room there was nowhere to run–

“I gave up hours ago,” a woman said. “My ship leaves in four hours and you–what do you think you’re doing?”

“I was delayed.” The tablecloth twitched aside; the assassin shoved clothes in Kolya’s face. “Go change,” he ordered, pointing at the bathroom. “Be quick.”

“Oh hells,” the woman said as Kolya grabbed the clothes and scooted.

Kolya closed the door and locked it and for a moment he just leaned against it. Then he pressed his ear to the door.

“…shuttle,” the woman was saying. “Keen, I wish you wouldn’t–”

The assassin said something too low for Kolya to hear. Keen? Was that his real name? Or another alias? It fit better than Theodore.

“Jadzia Vanzyl,” the woman said, louder now, “reservation for 0715. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Kolya started on the buckles of his thigh-high boots. Hans had a point about the vinyl, maybe. If he’d been quicker getting into it before, that slug bastard might not have caught–

That slug bastard was dead. Killed by an assassin with a sword who might be right outside the door. Kolya tugged at the boots with a whine. Keen had told him to be quick. A smart boy listened when a man with a sword told him shit.

“Yes, thank you–” the woman said, now farther away. Pacing with a comm, maybe. He couldn’t hear Keen at all. Kolya got his feet out of the boots and peeled off the fingerless opera gloves. Tugged at the vinyl choker the damned john had yanked him around by and winced. Kolya slowed to unbuckle it. The mirror showed red fingermarks–not just prints, but the shape of a strangling hand in burning red on white skin. Kolya whimpered. So close. Another few seconds–

Be quick. Kolya turned his back on the mirror and got back to getting naked.

Wriggling out of the hot-pants and the half-shirt was easier than the boots and gloves. Kolya shook out the clothes he’d been handed and made a face. Clearly Keen had grabbed Jadzia’s clothes–a sweater and a skirt–but on second thought, Kolya didn’t care. Disguise was a good thing. Jadzia was taller than he was–who wasn’t?–but slender, so the fit wasn’t too bad. Kolya bundled up his things and took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Leave those,” Keen ordered. “You will not need them.”

Did he have any idea how much vinyl that fit cost? Unless he did mean to kill–

“Leave it,” Jadzia said, but to Keen, not Kolya. She came closer slowly, staring. Brown hair short and messy, brown eyes, young, loose shorts and a loose shirt–she’d been asleep, Kolya realized. She was barefoot as he was, but she had red polish on her toenails. She stopped a meter from him.

“You’ve had a rough night, little one,” she said, her eyes dropping to his neck. Kolya lifted his chin so she could see the marks. Any sympathy he could get–

“I have a bag,” she said. “I’ll give it to you and you can keep your things. Are you hungry?”

At her words Kolya’s stomach growled. Gevinni had said the john would give him dinner but he didn’t. Kolya’s mouth watered and he swallowed hard and it hurt. Jadzia frowned.

“Ice cream,” she said. “Keen, go get this girl some ice cream.”

Girl? Hell, if that got him ice cream. “I…like ice cream,” Kolya dared to say. She smiled.

Ten days, nearly ten thousand words. And I love this story.