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Camouflage
- A young ballerina is mistaken for a corporate spy and finds her life is not what she thought it was.

1*
The young dark-haired woman hurried down the street, breathing heavily from her run. She had given her pursuers the slip so far, but it was only a matter of time before they caught up with her. So she slipped into the alleyway beside the Riverton Theater and found a hiding place behind some shipping crates. The three men following her saw her slip into the alleyway but were not in time to see her hiding. They assumed she had gone into the theater and went inside. As the two men with him went into the auditorium and started to search, the older man with them turned to face the stage as music began to play.
On the stage, the girl they had been chasing moved across the stage. Every movement was graceful and electric. Not one eye in the auditorium strayed while this girl danced. Watching from the wings, the tall, brown haired man watched her, frowning. This couldn’t be the young woman he had followed here; she had moved with a different kind of grace, honed by martial arts skills. This one moved like she was fluid; every movement beautiful. He moved closer so he could watch her more closely, and noticed then the lines of pain around her eyes. Her movements remained fluid but he could see that every one of them was a strain on her. Despite the pain, she glowed with happiness. When she stopped dancing, she moved off stage to thunderous applause.
“Dianna, we have to talk,” Michael said to her coldly as he stepped forward and grabbed the girl by the arm. He saw the lines of pain on Emily’s face and frowned. “You don’t look well…”
“I don’t know who you are,” Emily snapped at the man, and tried to pull her arm free. “Please let go of my arm.”
“That’s quite an act, Dianna,” Michael laughed as he started pulling her towards the door, “but it won’t work on me.”
Michael pulled Emily out of the theater and down the alleyway towards his waiting car. The girl he had been chasing, watched from her hiding place in confusion. Why was Winslow taking a girl out of the theater. It had been too dark for her to see Emily’s face, but she would have been astonished to see that she had a duplicate she was unaware of. She waited five more minutes and then slipped out onto the street, in time to see the car with Michael and his men move away. She hurried to her rendeavous, praying that whoever the girl was, Winslow was not going to harm her. At the doors of the theater, a tall, regal-looking man strode out of the doors in time to see Emily being shoved into the car. He frowned darkly as he got out his cell phone.
“He’s finally found her,” he said simply. “Tell Alexander to meet me in Riverton, Colorado immediately.
He ended the call and went back into the theater. As the owner and financial backer of the theater, it was part of his responsibility to meet and greet the public. He found the manager of the ballet company who was surrounded by enthusiastic patrons; all demanding to speak with that brilliant Emily Barton. Wes looked to Sebastian for assistance and he stepped into the throng, his attitude commanding their attention instantly. He was the type of man that demanded and received attention.
“The performance took more out of Emily than she thought it would,” Sebastian lied easily. “I had her taken home so that she could rest.”
He saw many disappointed faces and assured them they would get their chance to meet Emily later that week. He promised them ‘many exciting changes’ with the company and the theater itself very shortly.
“I am certain if she could have remained, Emily would have enjoyed meeting all of you.”
“You’re not telling the truth, Sebastian,” Wes whispered as the crowd moved off. “Something has happened to Emily, hasn’t it?” He saw the brief frown on his old friend’s face and guessed. “He’s found her, hasn’t he?”
“Not for long, Wesley,” Sebastian replied darkly. “I am bringing Alexander in to keep an eye on her from this moment on. I expect you to find a place for him in the company.” The look he gave Wes told the man that he had better not argue. “He will be here in the morning. We’ll discuss the specifics then.”
Wes nodded and watched Sebastian leave. As long as he had known this man, he had found only one subject the man was adamant about: Emily Barton. For some reason, Wes did not truly understand, Sebastian had taken this girl’s welfare on as his personal responsibility. From the time she was old enough to walk, he had seen to it that the child received the best dance instruction possible. When she graduated from college with a double degree in Dance and Occupational Therapy, he had purchased the theater and had Wes offer her a place in the company. She had never known it was all arranged for her; and Sebastian had made it very clear that she never was to know.
As Sebastian ran interference for Emily’s abductor, for reasons only he himself knew, Emily turned her head to look at the man who had taken her. His square jaw was set in anger, he was certain he had the right woman. He looked like an intelligent man, so Emily was confused as to why he would not listen to her. Surely he knew this woman well enough to know Emily was not her. She tried one last time to make the man see reason and let her go.
“I don’t know who you think I am,” Emily stated firmly, “but my name is…”
“You can quit the play-acting, Dianna,” Michael broke in, angrily. “You took something from me, and you are going to give it back!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Emily exclaimed. She looked down at the handcuffs they had put on her wrists. “I’m a member of the Riverton Ballet Company, not a thief…”
“She’s not letting it go, Boss,” Luke laughed from his place behind the wheel. “Does she really think these lies are going to work?”
“I’m not lying!” Emily shot back. She turned her eyes to the man who had abducted her. “I’m not this Dianna you’ve mistaken me for. Please let me go.”
“You are pushing it, Dianna,” Michael said coldly. “Be quiet now. We’ll finish our discussion in a more private setting.”
Emily watched the man turn away from her. She truly had no idea what this man wanted. He had mistaken her for another woman and taken her from the theater like a base criminal. What had this woman taken that was so important to this man. And what was he going to do to her when he found out that he had been mistaken? Emily refused to succumb to the fear that was building in her mind. She needed to keep her mind clear, be ready to make a break for it when the opportunity came. She cried out in anger as the man turned back towards her and injected something into the side of her neck. Her vision began to blur and grow dark. Michael’s cold smile was the last thing she saw.
“Don’t be frightened, Dianna,” Michael smiled as he watched his prize lose consciousness. “I have no intention of harming you.”
The car drove through the huge wrought iron gates of a building that had once been the local sanitarium. It was now called the Winslow Clinic. Michael Winslow used it as a front to his true work; the creation and distribution of designer drugs. He carried Emily upstairs and laid her down in one of the ‘guest’ rooms. There she would sleep off the sedative he had given her and then they would have their little ‘talk.’ The files she had taken were integral to the completion of his latest drug; without them he would lose eight months of research. He would have to begin the testing phase all over again. He went into his office and turned on the radio, hoping a little classical music would soothe his irritation. But what he heard only made his blood boil.
“Late breaking news from Riverton,” the announcer was saying. “A young dancer was abducted from the Riverton Theater earlier tonight. Emily Barton, 23, had just finished her first performance since she recovered from a crippling auto accident…”
Michael did not listen to the rest of the report. He was on his feet and back in the room he had placed his guest in moments. He looked more closely at the girl and began to see the differences. Dianna’s face was sharper-edged, and her body was long and lithe. This girl’s face was softer around the edges, her dancer’s body, long and willowy. He remembered this girl’s eyes as emeralds, brilliant as the gemstones whose color they shared. Dianna’s eyes were a pale green. And though they both had raven-black hair, Emily’s had the subtle blue highlights that truly black hair sometimes had. He fought the urge to touch the girl, afraid he would break her if he did so. She was a goddess; to be worshipped, admired, pampered, not manhandled by a mere mortal.
He returned to his office and sat down to think over his problem. The girl sleeping off the sedative he had given her was not Dianna Spencer. She had no knowledge of his drug, his work. She was an innocent in this. And he had just abducted her! Michael bit his lip, pondering just what he was going to do about the situation. He pressed a button on the intercom and Luke stepped into the office.
“This is not the girl we’re looking for,” he told the man simply. “Get out there and find Dianna Spencer.”
“What are we going to do with this girl?” Luke asked his employer. “She’s not going to take kindly to being abducted…”
“I’m hoping she is a reasonable young woman,” Michael told him. “You worry about finding Miss Spencer.” Luke nodded and left the clinic quickly with his partner. Michael got on his feet and went back upstairs. He

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