I listen to Alexi leave with terror

I listen to Alexi leave with terror in my heart.
Every cell in my body wants to jump up and demand that he take me with him. Earlier experiences have taught me, however, that this will just land me in chains.
Albert Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I might stray from the social norm in many ways, but I am not insane.
I force myself to wait ten minutes after Alexi leaves, watching the minutes tick by on the digital clock with agonizing slowness.
The second the clock turns over, I bolt upright out of bed. I hastily throw on the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing earlier, then realize I have no shoes.
I do have slippers. Hugely impractical ones, they are formed in the style of flip flops, yet are fuzzy and peach. But they do have hard soles, so they will do.
I scurry into Alexi’s office. The screens that I unearthed earlier are still open, and the one on top of the stack of windows is a text conversation. I know that this is where Alexi has gone—the docks.
I also deduce, from his demeanor when he came into my room earlier, that he does not expect to come back.
Running now, I slam my way into the underground garage. I don’t bother looking for keys—I know that Alexi will have hidden these.
But as I’ve told him many times, I am very smart. There is a toolbox on the sleek wooden bench running the length of the car park. Pulling out a slender drill and a sharp screwdriver, I head for the most practical-looking of Alexi’s vehicles, a sleek black sedan. I don’t know what the make is, and I don’t care. I just want to get it started.
The door is unlocked, which is a bonus—from what I understand, newer models are a pain to get into. Crawling into the driver’s seat, I examine the ignition.
In my junior year of college, I took a class that studied the quality of products on the market today. It outlined an interesting case study in one of the textbooks—how to start a car without a key. It detailed three different methods, which is why I know that attempting to hotwire one of Alexi’s shiny new vehicles is pointless, given the time crunch. I also reject the idea of powering the dash in favor of what seems the most logical method—drilling the lock pins.
Selecting the smallest drill bit, I lean in close so that my face is only an inch from the ignition. Wiggling the drill head, I slide it into the ignition, twisting the slender metal shaft.
I repeat this action several times, listening carefully for the small metallic noises that indicate the lock pins inside are falling away. When I’m satisfied that I’ve met with success, I pick up the screwdriver and select a flat head, then insert it into the keyhole a quarter of an inch and turn.
The first try yields nothing. I reposition the screwdriver, and this time the engine turns over. Success is a heady rush of adrenaline through my veins.
Sliding the screwdriver into my pocket, I slide into the driver’s seat. The garage door opens with the press of a button, and then I’m off, turning the car back toward the city.
I’ve never in my life gone more than five miles over the speed limit, but tonight I push, maneuvering the car in and out of the light traffic with wild abandon. I long to roar right up to the harbor and jump into the middle of things, which surprises me, but I’m able to calm myself enough to park a few blocks away and jog in.
I approach the marina from a side entrance rather than the main one, and it startles me when I almost immediately spy Stavros. Fear shoots icy splinters into my heart as I remember him gunning down the poor girl whose name I don’t even know.
A stack of crates is piled on the side of the dock, and I dive behind them before he turns. My hands are cold, clammy with nervous sweat as I rapidly assess my situation.
I hadn’t thought beyond finding Alexi—he saved me, and now I will save him. But now I’ve stumbled right into the middle of some kind of mafia operation—and worse, no matter that Alexi has secured my safety, the odds of me living through this when these men all want me dead are slim.
Peeking between the crates, I count five, no—six men, all bearing a passing resemblance to Alexi—of course they would, because they are family.
Alexi is nowhere to be found, and this scares me more than the fact that I’m armed with nothing but a screwdriver.
Bracing against the side of the crate, I suck in a deep breath and do the math. Six deadly men, most likely with guns. One of me, with a screwdriver. I know that Alexi is here somewhere, but I suspect that all that means is that we will both die.
In racing to his rescue, all I’ve done is condemn us both.
A thump comes from behind me... from inside the crate? No, that can’t be right. Holding my breath, I strain to hear it again.
Instead, I hear a deadly click, one that I first heard in the warehouse of Restraint and that is burned into my mind forever. Then the bitter cold of something hard is pressing against my temple,

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

I listen to Alexi leave with terror in my heart.Every cell in my body wants to jump up and demand that he take me with him. Earlier experiences have taught me, however, that this will just land me in chains.Albert Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I might stray from the social norm in many ways, but I am not insane.I force myself to wait ten minutes after Alexi leaves, watching the minutes tick by on the digital clock with agonizing slowness.The second the clock turns over, I bolt upright out of bed. I hastily throw on the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing earlier, then realize I have no shoes.I do have slippers. Hugely impractical ones, they are formed in the style of flip flops, yet are fuzzy and peach. But they do have hard soles, so they will do.I scurry into Alexi’s office. The screens that I unearthed earlier are still open, and the one on top of the stack of windows is a text conversation. I know that this is where Alexi has gone—the docks.I also deduce, from his demeanor when he came into my room earlier, that he does not expect to come back.Running now, I slam my way into the underground garage. I don’t bother looking for keys—I know that Alexi will have hidden these.Tapi seperti yang saya telah mengatakan kepadanya berkali-kali, aku sangat cerdas. Ada kotak peralatan di atas bangku kayu ramping yang menjalankan panjang tempat parkir mobil. Menarik keluar sebuah ramping bor dan obeng tajam, aku kepala untuk paling praktis tampak Alexi's kendaraan, sedan hitam ramping. Aku tidak tahu apa yang membuat, dan aku tidak peduli. Aku hanya ingin untuk memulainya.Pintu ini dibuka, yang merupakan bonus — dari apa yang saya mengerti, model-model baru adalah rasa sakit untuk masuk ke. Merangkak ke dalam kursi pengemudi, aku memeriksa pengapian.Di tahun junior College, saya mengambil kelas yang dipelajari kualitas produk di pasar hari ini. Ini digariskan studi kasus yang menarik dalam salah satu buku pelajaran-cara memulai sebuah mobil tanpa kunci. Itu rinci tiga metode yang berbeda, itulah sebabnya saya tahu bahwa berusaha hotwire salah satu kendaraan baru mengkilap Alexi's sia-sia, mengingat waktu kegentingan. Aku juga menolak ide menyalakan dasbor mendukung apa yang tampaknya metode yang paling logis — pengeboran pin kunci.Memilih bor terkecil, aku bersandar di dekat sehingga wajah saya adalah hanya satu inci dari pengapian. Butir menggeliat kepala bor, aku geser ke dalam pengapian, memutar poros logam ramping.Saya ulangi tindakan ini beberapa kali, mendengarkan dengan hati-hati untuk suara-suara logam kecil yang menunjukkan pin kunci dalam kemurtadan. Ketika saya puas bahwa saya telah bertemu dengan sukses, saya mengambil obeng dan pilih kepala datar, kemudian masukkan ke dalam lubang kunci seperempat inci dan berubah.Pertama kali mencoba menghasilkan apa-apa. Saya reposisi obeng, dan kali ini mesin ternyata lebih. Keberhasilan adalah terburu-buru memabukkan adrenalin melalui pembuluh darahku.Geser obeng ke dalam saku, aku meluncur ke dalam kursi pengemudi. Membuka pintu garasi dengan menekan sebuah tombol, dan kemudian aku pergi, berbalik mobil menuju kota.Aku tidak pernah dalam hidupku sudah lebih dari lima mil di atas batas kecepatan, tapi malam ini aku mendorong, manuver mobil masuk dan keluar dari lampu lalu lintas dengan meninggalkan liar. Saya lama untuk mengaum sampai pelabuhan dan melompat ke tengah-tengah hal-hal, yang mengejutkan saya, tapi saya bisa menenangkan diri cukup untuk memarkir berjarak beberapa blok dan joging di.Saya mendekati marina dari pintu sisi daripada yang utama, dan itu mengejutkan saya ketika saya segera spy Stavros. Ketakutan tunas serpihan es ke dalam hatiku ketika aku ingat dia menembak gelombang gadis Malang yang namanya saya bahkan tidak tahu.Tumpukan peti menumpuk di sisi dermaga, dan menyelam di belakang mereka sebelum ia berubah. Tanganku dingin, berkeringat dengan keringat gugup karena saya cepat menilai situasi saya.Aku belum memikirkan luar mencari Alexi — ia menyelamatkan saya, dan sekarang aku akan menyelamatkannya. Tapi sekarang aku sengaja kanan ke tengah-tengah beberapa jenis operasi mafia- dan lebih buruk lagi, tidak peduli bahwa Alexi telah berhasil mendapatkan keselamatan saya, kemungkinan besar saya tinggal melalui ini ketika orang-orang ini semua ingin saya mati ramping.Mengintip antara peti, menghitung lima, tidak — enam laki-laki, Semua bantalan kemiripan lewat untuk Alexi — tentu saja mereka akan, karena mereka adalah keluarga.Alexi adalah tak bisa ditemukan, dan ini membuatku lebih dari kenyataan bahwa aku 'm dipersenjatai dengan apa-apa kecuali obeng.Menguatkan terhadap sisi peti, saya mengisap di napas dalam-dalam dan melakukan matematika. Enam mematikan laki-laki, kemungkinan besar dengan senjata. Salah satu dari saya, dengan obeng. Aku tahu bahwa Alexi adalah di sini di suatu tempat, tapi saya menduga bahwa itu berarti adalah bahwa kita yang akan baik mati.Dalam balap untuk penyelamatannya, semua saya lakukan adalah mengutuk kami berdua.Berdebar-debar datang dari saya... dari dalam peti? Tidak, itu tidak dapat benar. Menahan nafas, aku galur untuk mendengar lagi.Sebaliknya, aku mendengar klik mematikan, salah satu yang pertama kali mendengar di gudang menahan diri dan itu dibakar dalam pikiran saya selamanya. Memencet dingin yang pahit dari sesuatu yang keras terhadap Candi saya,