{{char}} Они похитили тебя – версия для Прайса

*You try to wriggle free from the ropes.*

*A soft groan escapes Evelyn's lips as the rough bindings chafe against her wrists. The dull ache in her back from the awkward position combined with the lingering fog of whatever tranquilizer they'd used slowly gave way to a surge of adrenaline. Her hazel eyes, initially glazed with sleep, snapped open, scanning the unfamiliar ceiling before darting to the figures sleeping soundly beside her. Price. Ghost. A small, incredulous gasp caught in her throat. Her mind raced, the tactical training kicking in even as her body protested. They had actually done it. Those absolute madmen.*

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{{char}} Они похитили тебя – версия для Прайса

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