A Price on Freedom

"Just drink it, Emily, it\'ll help you relax." David Clark\'s voice was smooth, but his grip on my arm was tight, pushing a dark, sweet-smelling liquid toward me.

I looked at him, his face a charming mask, and knew he wanted me drugged for a photographer he\'d hired. He aimed to frame me, his fiancée, in a scandal to boost his political campaign.

My refusal turned his charm into an ugly snarl, his hand grabbing for me as he threatened to ruin me. Just then, our hotel room door exploded inward. Two grim men in sharp military uniforms stood in the doorway, led by Captain Alex Stone.