Charlie crept into the room to get a little better look, but when he did, he accidentally knocked something off a desk, sending pencils and pens scattering across the floor.
Donovan sprinted over and pointed a rifle at Charlie.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, with wide eyes.
"I'm Charlie. Please, don't shoot. I ..."
"Are you one of them?"
"I don't know what ..."
"I said, are you fucking one of them?!"
"Now just settle down. I ... I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're lying. You fucking son of a bitch," Donovan said, moving closer.
"It's a mistake. You think I'm someone else."
"Uh uh. That trick isn't gonna work on me. I've been trained."
"What are you talking ..."
"Shut the fuck up!"
Charlie froze. Whoever this Donovan guy was, he was seriously off his meds.
"Okay, okay," Charlie said softly, holding up his hands.
Donovan darted over to him and yanked his arms behind his back. Then he bound his wrists together.
"You're not getting away this time. I can see right through you," Donovan said, hulling Charlie over to the other side of the room and throwing him on the floor.
Charlie was now the hostage of a mad man. How did he get himself into this situation? And how was he going to get out? And what happened to the second guy? The place was completely silent, except for Donovan and him. It was almost as if he ... disappeared.
