Finishing weaving the last plastic button on her shirt, Diana's fingers stilled at the sound of a knock. She watched and waited for the door knob to turn. When it did not she spoke, "One second!"

Diana looked back at herself in the mirror, her choppy ebony hair that ended just above her shoulders. She analyzed herself like a picture; grey dress pants with white flats that matched her white dress shirt.

It was odd, the unrecognisable pit that formed in the caverns of her stomach. She'd gone into work more times than she could count. She knew the company layout like the back of her hand. But, the idea of stepping back through the glass doors, of scanning her badge made bile rise and a headache form like barb-wire crow around her head. 

She cracked the door open, her father stood with two coffees in hand. Light steam rose from the grey mug as he handed it to her.

"Thanks, dad." He kissed the side of her head. Another burst of pin pricks.

"Are you going in today?" He sat at the edge of the bed, watching her through the mirror. Despite being retired from the military for years, his deep voice still held the conviction of an officers. Everything was an interrogation just beneath the surface.

She nodded and took a sip of coffee to mask the pit forming in her stomach. Her fingers grabbed her grey blazer, plucking it from the edge of the bed.

His face contorted with precariousness, making him shift his glasses. "Are you sure you want to go back into the office? It's only been a couple weeks. I'm sure they won't mind. What do publishers have to stress over anyway?"

"Deadlines, difficult authors, marketing strategies..."

He raised his hands in defeat, "Ok. Ok. I just want to make sure you’re 100% and feeling super well before returning to work. You can take your time readjusting."

"I am. But thank you, I appreciate the concern." She tried to force the smile to her eyes. "I just want to get back to normal, you know?"

He tottered before nodding his head. "Well then, I hope you have a good day and I expect you to be home for dinner."

"Yes, sir." She mock saluted him just as he door closed. It clicked closed and she sighed.

The CIA had a hand in her kidnapping. She knew that with deadly certainty. That was exactly why Diana knew what to do.

I can't stop. I need this.

They all need to die.