Part 14 (1/2)

I'm not a crier. Never have been, never will be. But the thought of what awaited me had me choking up with fearful tears. So far I'd been left alone, but something told me that was just because I was meant for ”the boss”, one Vitaly Karahalios, international crime kingpin extraordinaire. I had no doubt that whatever he had in mind wouldn't be at all pleasant. Rape, torture, and murder had all been suggested as possibilities for what awaited me.

I had to hold on to hope that Harris would, somehow, find me and rescue me. Preferably before anything too f.u.c.ked up was done to me.

I made a new mantra: Harris is coming. Harris is coming. Harris is coming.

The helicopter angled inland, and after maybe twenty minutes flight time, we landed in an empty gra.s.s field beside an old twin-engine prop plane. The gra.s.sy field, I realized, was a makes.h.i.+ft airstrip, meaning Caracas, Venezuela still wasn't my final destination. The fixed-wing airplane's engines were spinning, and as I was hustled off the helicopter, the airplane's rudder and flaps wiggled as the pilot prepared for takeoff. I tried to distract myself from my ever-present fear with mental images of flying, checking dials and flipping switches and going through the checklist-all the boring s.h.i.+t you have to do to get to the good stuff: soaring through the air, free, high above it all, a bird's-eye view of the world and all its attendant troubles. I was shoved-none too gently, and with a lingering touch on my a.s.s-up the stairs and onto the plane. There were a few metal chairs bolted to the floor up front near the door to the c.o.c.kpit, but the rest of the fuselage was empty. It had clearly once been a pa.s.senger plane, but had long since been retrofitted to serve as a cargo plane, with tie-downs bolted to the walls and floors.

Yuri buckled me in, took a chair beside me, and then called out in his language. The plane rotated in place, and then I heard and felt the engines ramp up, felt the ground b.u.mping under the wheels, and then the lurch as we left the earth, angling aggressively upward.

And then...?

More boredom. Hours and hours of absolutely nothing, not even anything to see, as the tiny round windows were too far away to show me anything except the blue sky and the occasional sc.r.a.p of cloud. Hours and hours of flight, Yuri snoring beside me. I could have unbuckled and jumped out, but I didn't have a parachute, didn't know how to use one, and didn't fancy my chances of surviving a fall from an airplane. And his weapon was tucked in against his body, which meant if I tried to take it, he'd wake up and I'd be in trouble. Nothing to do but wait, it seemed.

So I endured the boredom as best I could.

We landed, eventually, and Yuri woke with a start when we hit the ground. As soon as the plane was stopped, he hauled me off the airplane and into yet another f.u.c.king aircraft, this one another helicopter pretty much identical to the first.

I groaned out loud. ”Jesus, really? More flying? This has got to be the most tedious kidnapping in the history of kidnapping.”

Yuri shot me a glance. ”You would like it to be more exciting, then? I can think of ways.”

”Well, when you put it that way, maybe boring is good.”

”In your place, boring is good.”

The helicopter lifted off and we headed south over lush greenery. No one said a word. I contemplated jumping out and taking my chances in the jungle, but Yuri's gaze flicked over to me regularly, as if to a.s.sess my inclination for just such a move. He was close enough that he'd probably be able to grab me before I even got myself unbuckled.

”Where are we going?” I asked, after an hour or so had pa.s.sed.

”So Paulo,” Yuri muttered. ”No more questions. Nearly there.”

Harris is coming. Harris is coming. Harris is coming.

A city came into view, vast and sprawling, the jungle giving way very suddenly to an urban landscape ensconced a few miles inland from the sea. G.o.d, the urban sprawl. It was dizzying. The helicopter zipped in low, only a few hundred yards above the tallest buildings, making a beeline across the city. I heard the pilot speaking-Brazilian? Portuguese? I was pretty sure they spoke Portuguese in Brazil, and So Paulo was in Brazil. Right? G.o.d, I was so ignorant of world geography. Anyway, I heard him speaking, and then the aircraft slowed as we approached a specific building, our destination. A hotel, by the looks of it, a big, fancy one, the kind that had helicopter landing pads on the roof.

The landing was gentle as a feather wafting on a breeze, the touchdown barely registering. The rotors didn't stop or slow as Yuri unbuckled himself, threw open the door, and leapt out past me. I had myself unbuckled but he refused to let me get down on my own, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me down. The wash from the helicopter forced me to bend almost double, making a tangled nest of my already gnarled hair. Yuri grabbed my wrist and dragged me across the roof at nearly a run, through a door and into an elevator, inserting a key and twisting it.

We descended briefly, and then the doors opened.

”Ah. Miss Campari.” The voice was accented, deep as a canyon, smooth as silk. Quiet, like a predator. ”Welcome.”

I saw the man who owned the voice. Only a few inches taller than me, but broad and powerfully built, he had thick wavy black hair, piercing dark eyes, weathered olive skin, and a square, granite jaw. He exuded threat and power. He wore tailored black slacks, and a dove-gray polo s.h.i.+rt left untucked. Barefoot. Clean-shaven.

Something in his eyes as he a.s.sessed me made me s.h.i.+ver. This man was...terrifying.

I wanted to hide behind Yuri, but he was already backing into the elevator, twisting the key, and then the doors were sliding between us, leaving me alone. I stood alone, facing Vitaly Karahalios. All but naked, and completely terrified.

He stalked over to me, flicked a loose curling tendril of hair with a fingertip, circling around me like a cat toying with a mouse. His fingertip traced down my spine where the s.h.i.+rt gaped open. I s.h.i.+vered and fought the urge to shy away. Another brief touch, this time to my shoulder. Nudging the s.h.i.+rt off my shoulder; the cotton slipped down to my bicep on one side, and then he nudged at the s.h.i.+rt on the other side, and it fell even more.

He circled back in front of me, hooked his finger in the collar and tugged. I let him remove the s.h.i.+rt, standing before him in nothing but my thong. I kept my back straight, my knees locked, my chin high.

Defiant.

Don't show fear-I knew his kind all too well.

”They brought you here like this?” he asked. ”I will have to scold them. You are a guest.”

”I don't feel like a guest,” I ventured.

”Perhaps not. Nonetheless, you should have been treated better. How was your trip here?”

I stared at him. ”They threw me in a tiny room on a s.h.i.+p that had no windows and stank of fish. The airplane and helicopters were okay, though.”

”Not in a proper room?” he demanded, seeming genuinely puzzled.

I shook my head. ”It was worse than a prison cell.”

”Idiots.” He withdrew a cell phone from his trouser pocket, touched a speed dial number, and put the phone to his ear. He spoke briefly in a foreign language, his voice sharp but quiet. After replacing the phone in his pocket, he bent and retrieved my s.h.i.+rt, handing it to me. ”I will arrange proper clothing for you in a moment, after we've had time to acquaint ourselves. But first, I must have a word with Yuri.”

As if on cue, Yuri emerged from the elevator. If I was any judge of his facial expressions, he was s.h.i.+tting bricks. He glanced at me as if in question, and I just shrugged.

”Yuri,” Vitaly said, his voice barely above a whisper. ”This is not what I was expecting. I am not pleased with you, I'm afraid.”

”I brought her here, boss,” Yuri mumbled. ”Not hurt. No one messed with her. Nico, he tried, and I shot him. He was gonna stop the boat and-you know. But I stopped him.”

”Where are her clothes?”

”This is what she was wearing when we take her. Swear.”

Vitaly was quiet a moment. ”And why is her s.h.i.+rt cut open?”

”Nico. I told you, boss, he-he was gonna rape her.”

”And why did you not give her your s.h.i.+rt? Or find her something else to wear?” He stepped closer to Yuri, staring at him. ”And why was she put in a cell? She should have had the captain's quarters. I told you, Yuri. She was not to be mistreated.”

”I'm sorry, boss, I didn't think-”

”No,” Vitaly murmured. ”No, you did not think.”

Perhaps I only thought I saw the movement. It was so fast, so neatly and easily done. Snick, a blade shot out of a handle that had appeared in Vitaly's palm, and then with a sudden flash of his wrist, the blade was snugged between Yuri's ribs on his left side, angled upward. Vitaly stepped back after a moment, withdrawing the blade. Yuri stood for a moment, blinking, confused, and then he toppled to the floor, slightly sideways and backward at the same time. Blood darkened his s.h.i.+rt, trickled slowly to the floor and began pooling, dark red on the white marble floor.

”Maria!” Vitaly said, his voice raised just a bit.

A woman appeared. ”Senhor?”

”Get Gutierrez in here, tell him he has a mess to clean up.”