Simplicity

The image is unclear, but still it calls, and in doing so does clear a bare few more thoughts. She's the reason you're here, the one who told you about the black book she needs to get to Switzerland. Her perfume would give you so much more knowledge, just but another whiff, smell is the nearest sense of memory. If you can reach her, you'll find out the truth, and even now, you have some sense of focus, uncertain as it is.
You start to put the key to the door, then hear her scream again, sharper, plus the sounds of struggle. Now comes another voice, male, low, angry, ending in a sharp clap of pain. As you throw the door open, again the female voice: "YOU!" followed by the male growl. The memory hurts, but you know this woman, know she has her reasons, at least you owe her a favor, one big time.
Up you race, burst into the room, realize this is the warden's office, and that's no small significance. A quick look round, there's a gun, there's a book, there's a woman and a man; you think quickly.