This doesn’t comfort her as much as I had hoped, but she lets me put her into the truck without a fight.
Yuri joins me, checking his Garmin MARQ 2. “Three minutes.”
“Are we ready to blow this shit heap sky high?” I ask.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this happy. “Three minutes and fifteen seconds,” Yuri grins. “Get your arse in the truck.”
“On it,” I said, turning back to see the helicopter lifting off the roof, the critically injured girl just needs to hang on a little longer… It’s above the trees and ready to head west toward Freiburg when the black sky lights up like high noon as the helicopter explodes into a massive ball of fire, raining down twisted metal and flaming debris into the tall pines.
“Bozhe moy-my god!” Yuri gasps, horror twisting his expression. “My munitions man took out our device!”
“Looks like Schmidt had his own little failsafe,” I said grimly. Sliding into the back seat with the girl, I strap her in as she weeps silently. Oleg, the driver, has his hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white. Slapping the back of his seat, I growl, “Get us the fuck out of here.”
“Gladly, sir,” he says fervently, stomping on the gas pedal.
Cora…
I lost consciousness sometime during the drive, because when my eyes open again, I’m looking at a ceiling, nicely painted with flowering vines. They’re sogreen.It’s been so long since I’ve seen actual color.
No gray dungeon stone. No creepy antiseptic white. This looks like a bedroom in maybe a nice little German inn.
Yanking off the blanket, I check my ankle. The shackle is gone and my ankle is bandaged, clean white gauze covering most of the scarring and bruising. There’s an IV tube in my hand. The bag of fluid looks like an innocent saline. I pull out the needle anyway. No more anything going into me that I don’t agree to.
Watching the door, I wonder if it’s locked. My brain feels like cottage cheese, and I take a couple of deep breaths. The last thing I remember is watching the helicopter go up in a tremendous ball of fire. Oh, god, that poor girl. For one moment, she must have thought she’d been saved.
I hope she was unconscious when it exploded. I hope she never knew. I didn’t know the names of the women He assaulted in front of me, but we were sisters all the same. I would have died to save any of them. I would have gladly killed Him.
The door opens and I run my hand over my face. No more weakness in front of these people. It’s that hulking Italian - Dario? There’s another man with him, hauling a huge medical bag.
“How are you feeling?” Dario asked, standing a bit away at the foot of the bed, arms folded. He’s still in that black tactical suit. I know he is trying to look less intimidating. He must be aware of his size and how it affects everyone around him. Which means he must use it to terrify people, too.
“You pulled out your IV,” the medic said, his soft brown eyes looking disappointed in me. His scarred hands are competent as he cleans my hand and checks my pulse. “I’m just trying to get some fluids into you. You’re severely dehydrated and I’m guessing they kept you on a very limited diet. Can I put the IV back in?”
“I don’t… want it.” Why can’t I speak like a normal human being? Did I lose the ability to communicate after three weeks chained in that room? “I just…” They wait for a moment, but I can’t think of what to say next.
“It’s okay,” the medic nodded kindly. “I’m Edoardo, and that giant over there staring at you like a creep is Dario.”
“Him, I remember,” I try to smile, but I’m not sure how well I pulled it off because they both look even more concerned. “Thank you for saving me.”
As Dario looks from Edoardo to me, I feel the full force of his gaze, amber eyes with lashes so long and thick that it’s criminal they were given to a man. “You’re welcome,” he says. “Now, please tell me your name. Who can we call for you? Does your family know you’re missing? Or did they…” he hesitates, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s asking if my family sold me to Him.
“No,” I said quickly, “no, they didn’t sell me to Him. I mean, I don’t have a family. That would sell me. Of course, they wouldn’t sell me. If I had a family. Families don’t do that.”
Well technically, I think bitterly,mine did. Just not in this particular case.
Both men look a little confused, but Dario nods, slowly moving closer. “What can you remember?” He’s speaking slowly, kindly, like he thinks I’ve completely lost it.
“I was… backpacking around Europe,” I said. “I was at a hostel in Heidelberg and I went out to a club with some of the other people and I thought I watched my drink well enough. I’m always careful,” I add defensively. “I… uh. I woke up in that room with the chain around my ankle. It’s been three weeks, I think. I kept track. What’s the date today?”
“It’s the fifth of May,” Dario said.
I feel like someone just punched me in the throat. “M- May? But I… it was February, the twentieth? It’s been twomonths?”I’m crying, I feel so stupid but I can’t stop. I was in that room for nearly ten weeks? “But I k- kept track?”
“Shh, it’s all right,” he said gently, sitting on the bed. “You did really well. You didn’t give up. You kept sane. You didn’t let him break you.”
“It was supposed to be three weeks,” I sobbed.
“Do you realize how strong you are?” Dario persists, taking my hand.
