The van rumbles along an unseen road, the engine noise loud in the confines of the windowless back. Charles and I are bound and gagged, sitting helplessly as our captors's muffled voices come from the cab.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the van grinds to a halt. The doors are flung open, blinding us with bright light. Rough hands haul us out into a chilly night air.
"Move it!" one of the captors barks, shoving us forward.
I get my first look at our surroundings - a rundown warehouse off a remote back road. We're muscled through a side door and into a dimly lit room that looks like it was once an office.
In the center is a heavy wooden chair with straps on the arm and foot rests. I recoil as I realize it's essentially a restraint chair of some kind.
"Get her in there," a voice
