Page 97 of One Minute Out

The girl doesn’t appear hurt and, from the look in her eyes as I put my makeshift garrote around the old dude’s head, she’s a fighter. She was prepared to die in combat rather than yield to her attacker, and I have nothing but respect for that.

Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him, but the logistics of getting him off this boat along with Roxana didn’t compute. I figure I can swim out of here with one person, and I’d much rather that person was going along willingly. The moment I saw Roxana I decided she would get the other ticket off this boat. She could tell me where they were heading and who was who in this organization.

She spends five seconds staring me down, before replying in a halting voice. “He was... I don’t know who he was. How is it you don’t know?”

I don’t answer her. Instead I ask another question. “Are you hurt?”

She replies by saying, “There are many men with guns on this boat.”

“Tell me about it.” I ask again, “Are you hurt?”

She looks me up and down, and then at the two bodies on the floor. “How can you kill two men and then just have a normal conversation?”

I don’t agree this is a normal conversation, but I take her point. I look down to the two bodies. “They’re bad guys, right?”

She nods. “Very bad.”

I shrug. “Fuck ’em.” And then I ask a third time, “Are... you... hurt?”

“I... I am okay.” The shock of the moment seems to have her in its grip, but her eyes soon clear and she looks into mine. “It’s you... you were the man in the red room. The one who killed the Serbian?”

“You were there?”

She nods, looks to a point on the wall. “I was there.”

I want to ask her about what happened after I left the farm, but I have more pressing matters at the moment.

“What’s your name?” I ask, although I know the answer. What I don’t know, however, is her state of mind. I need to find out if any bonds have developed during her captivity that will make her a threat to me or my mission.

“My name is Ma... it’s Maja.”

This is pretty standard in kidnapping situations. They’ve got her using a different name, both for operational security and as part of her reeducation process. But I know, without a doubt, that this is the girl from the picture with Talyssa.

Nobody looks like this.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not Maja. You are Roxana Vaduva.”

Her eyes shut and tears cascade down her cheeks. She sits down on the bed roughly and sobs softly with her face in her hands. “How do you know who I am?”

“Because Talyssa sent me.”

Tears flow, she collapses on the bed crying, and I look down at my watch.

I sit next to her, my pistol drawn and pointed towards the locked door. “Why are you up here with this old dude?”

She lifts her head, and with a hint of anger, she replies, “Why do you think? I was brought up to be raped. I haven’t been behaving, I guess, and this is how they punish you around here.”

“You’ve been held with the others?”

She shakes her head now. “I am getting VIP treatment, I have been told, because I am now the property of the head of the Consortium.”

This has me momentarily confused. “The head of the entire organization?”

“Yes.”

“No shit? Who is he?”

“I don’t know. He told me his name was Tom, but that might be a lie. I met him in Romania.”

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