Domino (The Domino Trilogy) (36 page)

Snap out of it,
Delaney,
my inner self seethed.
Stop with the morbid crap and come up with a solution to this whole mess instead.

A solution?
I racked my brain, but nothing came to mind. I was off to a fine start. Before I could beat myself up even more, though, the van lurched to a stop.

The van cut its engine. I heard some muffled voices just outside speaking a language I didn’t understand. The voices increased in volume, then became heated. There was the
thud
of fists hitting flesh, followed by the
click
of a gun being cocked, then two gunshots. The muffled voices disappeared then and were replaced by silence.

I leaned back against the cold metal of the truck cab, shivering. Someone was dead just
on the other side of that corrugated steel wall. I wondered if maybe it was Rolf or Wilhelm. Whoever it was, someone had died because he’d displeased Bluschencko. I knew deep down that the executioner had done his job within earshot of Hannah and me as a lesson to both of us about what happened to people who displeased Bluschencko. I only wished Hannah had been awake to hear it. I had a sick feeling that she wouldn’t take the situation seriously enough to save her own skin. And she wasn’t tough, like I was---she hadn’t even managed to stay conscious. I wondered if maybe she’d mouthed off to our captors and bought herself a few extra kicks in the head. That would be in character for her. I only hoped it wouldn’t be fatal.

Hannah had grown up under such privilege, she’d never wanted for anything.
She really had no idea what it meant to have your back up against the wall, or how to bail herself out of tight situations---not like I did. I had to hustle every month just to make the rent. Hannah was smart and had good publishing instincts, but she wasn’t exactly someone I’d want to rely on to get me off a desert island. No, if we were to survive this together, I’d have to be the one to get us both out alive.

I closed my eyes and prayed silently for strength. I’d never been a religious person, but even I believed God existed. And I’d need God on my side. Otherwise, I might end up dead in the middle of nowhere, too
, like whoever the poor slob dead outside the van was.

There was a metallic
click
as someone unlocked the back hatch of the van and rolled it open. Bright sunlight shone inside the dark cab, which surprised me---I’d expected our captors to move us only under cover of darkness. Wherever we were, we were someplace where nobody would see us.

I shaded my eyes against the blinding sunlight. I saw a dark silhouette against the glare, the outline of a heavyset man standing on the pullout ramp that led up into the cab. “Get out,” said a deep, grizzled voice with a Slavic accent. “Come down.”

I obeyed, gingerly stepping my way down the loading ramp to the ground. We were in an open clearing surrounded by thick woods. I couldn’t make out much more detail than that, for my eyes were still adjusting to the bright light; all I could see was glare and shadows. When my vision returned I took in my surroundings, hoping to guess our whereabouts. The woods were thick but nondescript; we could have been anywhere between Canada and North Carolina. The clearing was long and narrow, and there was a low-slung building about fifty yards in front of us. Next to the building was a tower, along with a radar antenna.  I glanced to my left, and saw a long strip of asphalt. At the far end of the asphalt was a Learjet.

So
Blushencko had a private airstrip. Easy for him to avoid things like customs and Homeland Security that way. “Convenient,” I heard myself say aloud. I bit my tongue as soon as the word escaped my lips.

“You think this is funny?” said a harsh voice just to my right, the same one as before. “Because I do not.”

I felt my face grow hot. “I was just, um, showing my appreciation for such a nice setup,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even.  My knees were shaking and I felt dizzy. I hadn’t eaten in God knew how long, and my headache had worsened since getting up. “It’s, um, impressive.”

I felt a hard jab in my ribs. Cutting a sidelong glance at my captor, I saw he’d rammed me with the butt of his Sig Sauer. “Shut up, bitch,” he growled, then motioned to a patch of bare earth just to the left of the van. “Go stand over there. Don’t move, or I will kill you. Understand?”

I nodded and obeyed. Once I stood in the center of the bare patch of earth, I cast my eyes around, trying to glean more information about my location. The only thing new I noticed was the dead body that lay sprawled by the passenger door of the truck. I recognized the black suit and shoes of one of my former bodyguards, but I couldn’t tell if it was Rolf or Wilhelm. They were identical twins, it could have been either of them, I supposed. What had they done to displease Bluschencko? Why kill one and not the other? Was there any point in even asking these questions? Probably not.

If this display had taught me anything, it was that
Bluschencko and his lackeys wouldn’t tolerate questioning of any kind. You either did what you were told, or you got shot.

A string of profanity emitted from inside the van. I wanted to go investigate, but my gut told me to keep my feet planted right where they were. So I waited. Meanwhile, more profanity and a series of metallic bangs floated out of the van, followed with a whimper.

Hannah.

I was just about to rush headlong into the van after her when my captor reappeared, carrying Hannah slung head-down over his back.
“Your friend, she will not wake up,” he grumbled. “You, try.”

He deposited her unceremoniously on the ground. Hannah whimpered again in her sleep, but otherwise did not stir. That was a good sign, at least. I kneeled by her side and gently shook her shoulder. “Hannah!  Hannah, it’s me, Nancy. Wake up!”

After a long moment, Hannah’s eyes slowly fluttered open. One of them was stained a deep red, the capillaries oozing blood from a heavy blow. She groaned and held her head. “Whaa? Ohhhhh, it hurts.”

“Hannah, can you hear me?”

She gave a single nod, then winced in pain, but didn’t speak further. I leaned in close so she could hear me whisper; I didn’t want our captor to overhear. “We’ve been taken someplace. I’m not sure where. It looks like they’re putting us on a plane. I’ll try to figure out a way home if I can. Meantime, just do whatever they tell us to do.”

Hannah nodded her understanding, then her eyes slid closed again and she seemed to sleep. I was worried about her.  Hell, I was worried about both of us. But one thing at a time.

Our captor jabbed me with his boot. “Well?”

“I got her to wake up for a bit,” I offered. “She’s got a head injury.  She needs a doctor.”

“No doctor here.”
“Well, then get one.”

He kicked me again, harder this time. “You do not give me orders,” he barked. “Otherwise I will shoot you.” He jerked his head in the direction of the dead body. “That is what happened to last guy who tried to give me order.”

“Right.” I altered my strategy. “I’m sure that Mr. Bluschencko doesn’t want to lose his valuable investment,” I said, making a point to stare my captor in the eye. “If Hannah dies, he won’t be able to make any money from her. And if she dies on your watch, I can’t imagine that would be good for you.”

He took a minute to process this.
“I see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome. Now, you get in plane. Walk. Your friend, she also need to walk.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then thought better of it.  I shook Hannah’s shoulder again. “Hannah, do you think you can stand up?  You can lean on me if you need to.”

She groaned and held her head, with both hands this time.  But she did manage to raise herself up slightly, leaning back onto raised elbows. “I can’t see anything,” she said after opening her eyes.

“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing. Just black.” She was slurring her words, too. “Wait---I can see a little bit on the left side, but not the right.” She turned her head back and forth, perhaps trying to see what vision she had left.

“What can you see on the left side? Tell me.”

“Just gray. Just a gray blur.”

I felt sick. If Hannah had lost her vision, a concussion was the least of her problems. “I asked him to get us a doctor,” I whispered. “You need help. I’ll do whatever I have to so you can get it. Here, lean on me and I’ll help you up.”
She did, and I somehow managed to get the both of us upright and moving towards the plane.  Thank God we were about the same size. And I somehow managed to find some strength despite being hungry, tired, and dizzy---probably pure adrenaline.

After what seemed like ages, we made it to the plane. Another armed, masked man in black waited for us by the boarding steps. He said nothing, just motioned for us to climb them and go inside the Learjet.

The plane was bright and luxurious inside. There were several leather easy chairs, a fully stocked bar, a flatscreen television with a full entertainment system. A uniformed flight attendant greeted us with a smile and offered us both something to drink. “We have wine, beer, liquor,” she said in a Russian accent. “Whatever you want.”
I deposited Hannah into one of the comfortable chairs and stared at the stewardess, incredulous. “Is this some kind of joke?”
She blinked, not understanding. “No joke. Just doing my job.”

“Which is?”
“To make you comfortable.”

I scoffed. “We’re prisoners. Since when do you make prisoners comfortable?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t ask questions. Mr. Bluschencko doesn’t like it. Now what do you and your friend want to drink?”
“Ice water for both of us. And food, if you have any.”

She gave me a curt nod, retrieved two room-temperature bottles of mineral water from the bar, along with some bags of pretzels, and dumped them on a side table to my left. Then she disappeared into the galley.

Hmph. Not exactly the friendly skies.

I opened Hannah’s water bottle first and helped her take several long swallows, then I fed her the pretzels one at a time. I noticed that she had trouble chewing and swallowing on one side of her mouth. I prayed that
Bluschencko showed some mercy and got her the medical attention she obviously needed.

As if on cue,
Bluschencko appeared.

He watched me spoon-feed Hannah for a moment or two before speaking. “You take good care of your friend, I see.
Why?”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out how he would react to anything I said.
But my silence only served to incite him. “Answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Someone has to take care of her,” I muttered.

“Why? Because I am not? Tell me, honestly.”

I didn’t respond.
If I gave him an honest answer, he’d probably kill me.

“There is no reason for you to fear me, Ms. Delaney. I will not harm you. You are far too valuable to me.”

“You won’t harm me? Tell that to your goons then.” I pointed at the lump and bruises on my temple. “And you don’t seem to care much about what happens to Hannah.”
“A fair point. I will speak to my employees about how they handled you. Though you must concede that your attitude back at my compound was less than cooperative.”

“Most kidnapped people aren’t cooperative.”

“Another fair point. You are of average intelligence, I see that much.”

I
ignored his condescending remark, and instead finished feeding Hannah and dug into my own meager meal. The water quenched my thirst for the moment, but the stale pretzels did little to calm my growling stomach.

“Are you hungry, Ms. Delaney?”

Any idiot could see that Hannah and I were both famished, so I ignored him and just kept eating my pretzels. I didn’t want to risk upsetting him. Plus, I wanted him to speak without my prompting him---if I was lucky, he might even brag about his plans for me without me having to ask.  Using a criminal’s ego against him is an old reporter’s trick.

He took the bait. “We’ll be serving a meal once we’re in flight,” he said, pouring himself a highball of whiskey from the bar.
Jameson, on the rocks. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, chewing a mouthful of pretzels. “I see.”

“Don’t you want to know where you’re headed?”

I shrugged. I already had a good inkling of where we might be headed. I was already forming a plan in my head with that in mind. But I gazed at him expectantly, waiting for him to spill the beans himself.

“You don’t say much, do you, Ms. Delaney? My, you must have learned your lesson about mouthing off back at the compound then.”

I shrugged again and studied the ingredients label on the pretzel package. I cut my eyes over to Hannah, who was staring at me with a horrified expression. I noticed she seemed more alert now that she’d eaten, though her eyelids still drooped and one eye was still bloodied. She still needed medical attention badly. I’d have to be sly if we were to get help before takeoff.

“Aren’t you going to question me, Ms. Delaney? Isn’t that what you reporters do?”

“Sometimes. Not always.”

Bluschencko.sat down in the leather chair opposite me and sipped his highball. “Why not always?”