Марк Грини - One Minute Out

She describes him, and my hopes are dashed. This is the dude who left with the Greek goons on the tender.

“He’s off the boat now.”

She raises a finger. “There is someone else. A woman on board. An American psychologist called Dr. Claudia. The entire pipeline is not just a way to move the girls, it is a way to reprogram us for what is to come.”

She describes Claudia. I haven’t seen such a woman aboard, and don’t think I’ll be able to go hunting for her. No, I’ll take Roxana, in the hopes she can help us identify the men she met in Bucharest, because they are running this entire show.

“Okay. Any chance you know how to scuba?”

She shakes her head, a distant look in her eyes now.

“No problem. I’ll get you through this. I’ve staged a rig on the aft deck. We’ll get to it. You can breathe from my octopus, it’s my spare regulator, it attaches to my tank. We’re not going deep. The water is going to be cold without a wetsuit on, but I’ll keep my arm around you and we’ll stay close together all the way to the shore. We’re not very far from—”

“No.”

I stop midsentence and shake my head. Not this again. “Roxana, no one is going to come after your family. I can protect them.”

She speaks flatly now. “I am not leaving the girls below. You have to take us all.”

“It’s just me. I don’t have a boat or a submarine or a dozen Navy SEALs. It’s just me. Alone. How am I going to scuba dive with twenty-five women?”

Roxana deflates a little. “The yacht is going to Venice, I know that much. Tomorrow night there is something they call the market. They are going to sell off the women below, plus some more women they are picking up here.”

“Sell them to who?”

“Claudia says they’ll go to mafia organizations, oil sheiks, high-end prostitution operations around Europe and the Middle East. After tomorrow night in Venice, all these women will be gone, and there will be no way to save them.”

I just stare at her and say nothing, because even with this information, I don’t know how to save them.

She must see the uncertainty on my face. “You just have to go to the police there, they can find out where—”

I interrupt with, “The cops are useless in this. The pipeline only goes places where they control a section of the police.”

This doesn’t seem to surprise Roxana much at all. She just nods, looks to the floor. “I’m being taken to the Director. I can lead Talyssa to him. I don’t know how. Maybe I can find a phone or a computer or something to communicate with her once I get where I’m going and find out where that is.”

She’s as brave as her sister but, also like her sister, I’m not sure she fully understands what she’s in for. “Do you have any idea what is likely to happen to you between now and then?”

With a nod she says, “Of course. I will be raped. Beaten. I’ll be punished for you coming here.”

I am thinking the same thing, and I don’t know if I can deal with more of what I’ve been feeling since Mostar. Before I can reply, however, I hear a sound outside the bulkhead.

An outboard motor, increasing in volume.

The tender is returning to the boat.

“Don’t let them catch you,” she says. “Go.”

Telling myself I have a little time, I look away for a moment, and I begin to worry that I don’t want to know the answer to the question I’m compelled to ask. But I have to know. Turning back to her, I say, “What did they do to you after I left the red room?”

She sits back up on the bed and begins weeping again. “That night, after you left, they took us into the mountains. Raped some of the girls. Maybe most of them. One tried to run . . . she did not get far.”

“They killed her?”

In answer she says, “She was only a kid.”

I feel nausea coming on. I can put up with so much awful shit in this world, but only when it’s not my actions that caused it. This? This child getting murdered, others getting raped?

It’s on me.

Guilt can cripple you. Or it can be a driving force. Only your internal strength decides how you respond to your failures.

I fight my stomach into submission with a couple of deep calming breaths. “I’m sorry” is all I can say.

She rubs tears from her eyes as she says, “I’m glad you killed that man. The Serbians had been raping the girls, anyway. That is not your fault. And the girl ran because she thought she had an opportunity. Who knows? She might be the luckiest one out of all of us.”

Once more I try to get her to listen to reason. “Not if you come with me right now. I can protect you, Roxana. Trust me.” But I see a resolution in her eyes that is so similar to what I’ve seen from her sister for the past few days that I know it’s futile to fight her.

“Tell Talyssa I love her.” She breaks down in fresh tears, and I can read it all on her face. She knows this is her one decent shot at survival, and almost definitely her only chance to get out of this situation without being brutalized by her captors.

But she is steadfast in her decision.

And I know when I’m beat. “I’ll tell her. She thinks you blame her for what happened.”

Roxana wipes her eyes again, shakes her head. “No. I did this. I did this on my own. And I’m going to continue my mission until I find out where this all leads. I’ll contact her, and then she . . . and you . . . can come and tear this whole thing apart.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” I offer my hand to her and she looks at it. With a beautiful little smile that takes me by surprise, she says, “I haven’t had a man want to shake my hand in a while. Other things, yes, but not that.”

I feel bad for what I’m about to do, but I do it anyway. She offers me her hand finally and I take it in mine, and as I shake it I say, “I’m going to have to make this look good. You’ll thank me later, but probably only much later.” I add, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

I pull her up from the bed towards me and, at the same time, I fire out a left hook to her temple, knocking her out cold, and then I catch her and gently lay her down on the floor in a heap. I tear open her sleeveless blouse and position her next to the bodies.

I couldn’t leave her sitting here in this stateroom untouched with two dead guys lying around. Even if I ran around this boat till everyone saw me and all on board knew an assassin had schwacked this perv and his shithead bodyguard, it would look damn suspicious that I didn’t at least hurt her in the process. If she looked in any way complicit in what happened, I couldn’t imagine what they’d do to her then. And even now, leaving her lying here on the floor feels wrong on every level.

But it was her call to make.

I hear the tender on the port side motor away, probably back to the rear of the vessel so it can be winched out of the water, and this tells me everyone is on board. I head to the door, now wondering if I can even get myself out of here before getting killed.

• • •

Jaco Verdoorn climbed up the ladder and stepped onto the deck. Behind him the eight women he and the Greek mafia men picked up on the coast of the Croatian city of Rovinj ascended, one by one, until they all stood there with him, squinting in the bright light.

Though there were eight in this shipment, only seven of them would be generating revenue for the organization. One of them, and Verdoorn eyed her as she climbed aboard, was a special-handling item. A beautiful Hungarian blonde, Cage had seen her at the ballet in Budapest with his wife several months earlier, and he’d demanded she be pulled into the pipeline.

She’d be taken along with Maja to the West Coast, used by Cage and his friends and business partners at Rancho Esmerelda, and then cast away after Cage found a new crop on his future trips abroad.