Ghosts of War

by Brad Taylor

  Shoshana slid her eyes away and said, “It’s easy to say that. Much harder to live it.”

  Jennifer had no answer for that, wondering how on earth anyone could even believe that killing simply because someone ordered it was a normal thing, as Shoshana seemed to. Like it was the natural circle of life.

  Shoshana said, “I’m through killing.”

  Jennifer started to answer when the door to their car opened and a beefy man walked in. He looked vaguely familiar. Jennifer tightened up, pretending to work a sudoku puzzle, allowing the man to pass without acknowledging him.

  Another man came through the door, and she thought she recognized him as well. She lowered her eyes, and Shoshana said, “Those are the two from the video.”

  Jennifer said, “Let them go. Let them walk past us.”

  Shoshana tensed her body and said, “They aren’t here coincidentally. There’s no one else in this car, and nothing behind us.”

  “No. Don’t. Let them go. They don’t know who we are. They’ve never seen us.”

  The first man walked down the aisle, ignoring them both. He reached their row, and Jennifer saw she’d made a mistake with her command. He pulled out a small pistol and jammed it into Jennifer’s chest. He said, “You two are invited to first class. There’s a man who wants to meet you.”

  Jennifer stiffened, waiting on Shoshana to explode. The second man leaned over the row in front of them, small pistol in hand, and said, “Mikhail said to tell you hello. He’s looking forward to talking.”

  Everything Shoshana had said about killing faded away. For the first time since she’d known her, Jennifer saw fear on Shoshana’s face.

  —

  Mikhail waited in his cabin, going back and forth about how he would handle the confrontation. He knew he needed to understand exactly what the Mossad had learned about him and, most important, how they’d found him, but part of him wanted to spend time with Shoshana.

  She was the prize. He had broken her once, and she’d somehow rebounded, destroying his career. She had always been a flower he could never have. Someone who had defied him. He now had a second chance.

  He’d felt the familiar warmth in his groin the moment he’d seen her digital image. Part trepidation and part lust. He despised her, a hatred borne of fear of what she was capable of. But he could destroy that fear, if he had her. And now he did.

  He heard a knock, and opened the door. The first thing he saw was Shoshana, obediently walking in front of his security. He studied her face, waiting on the satisfaction of the moment when she recognized him. He got it.

  She saw him and began to tremble.

  51

  The man pushed the barrel against Jennifer’s back, forcing her into the sleeping cabin behind Shoshana. She was shoved into a chair. Shoshana remained standing in front of the man they knew as Mikhail. Jennifer swiftly analyzed the small cabin, looking for the way out. Looking for the seam she could exploit, confident that with Shoshana, she could persevere. The men with guns had no idea of the violence she and Shoshana could perpetrate, choosing to treat them like weak women, which was a mistake.

  The first security man threw a bag on the table, containing the contents of what they’d found on Jennifer and Shoshana. Mikhail reached inside and poked around, eventually pulling out Jennifer’s cell phone.

  Jennifer glanced at Shoshana, trying to communicate with her eyes, and was shocked at what she saw. Shoshana was a shell of herself.

  Guided to the bed, she sat down without resistance.

  Mikhail set the phone on the counter, pointed at Jennifer, and said, “Secure her.” The train began to slow and the men glanced at him. He said, “It’s the three-minute stop. Don’t worry about it.”

  He approached Shoshana and she recoiled. He leaned into her face and licked her cheek like a cat, saying, “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

  The two men pulled out wire coat hangers from the closet, and in short order had wired Jennifer’s legs together, then bound her hands at the wrist. By the time they were done, the train was moving again.

  Jennifer gave one feeble attempt at innocence, saying, “Why are you doing this?”

  Mikhail glanced at her, then spoke in Yiddish. Jennifer looked confused, and Mikhail smacked Shoshana on the side of the head, hammering her on the ear and slamming her skull into the wall. Punishing her for Jennifer’s perceived insolence. Jennifer alone saw her earbud fly out. Shoshana rolled upright, still frozen in fear, taking the blow as if it were what was expected in life.

  Mikhail asked Jennifer another question in Yiddish. She once again looked confused, and it broke through. In English, Mikhail said, “You’re not Mossad. Interesting. Very interesting. We’ll get to the bottom of that, I assure you. I don’t know you like I do Shoshana, but I will. Biblically, if you want.” He smiled at his joke and said, “That can be fun, or it can be painful. It all depends on you.”

  A phone started buzzing, and Jennifer realized it was hers, lying next to the bag on the counter. Mikhail went to it and picked it up. He let it ring a couple more times, deciding, then answered, saying nothing. He listened for a second, then hung up. A minute later, the other phone in the bag began ringing. He ignored it.

  Jennifer gave up feigning innocence, trying intimidation instead. She said, “We have a team tracking us. Harming us would not be wise.”

  He laughed and said, “Tracking you on a moving train? Yes, I’m sure they are, but all they have is a cell phone. What I need to know is how you found me. And how much you know about my plans. I will learn that soon.”

  He turned to Shoshana and leaned into her. She recoiled, and he held her head in his hands. Unlike Jennifer, her own arms and legs were free, but she showed no willingness to use them. He kissed her lips and said, “I’ve missed you so much. Remember the fun we had between missions?”

  She nodded hesitantly. He slid his hands up from her cheeks and gripped her hair hard, pulling until a gasp escaped her lips. He said, “This will be nothing like that.”

  He released her and said something in Russian to the men. He left with one, leaving the other in the room holding a small Walther PPK pistol, the man glowering at Jennifer from under thick eyebrows.

  Jennifer fervently stared at Shoshana, trying to get her attention and failing. Shoshana was mentally shattered. Mikhail had left her unbound, and yet she did nothing but rock back and forth, her eyes unfocused.

  Jennifer looked at the man on the chair, wondering how she could get to him. The thought was ridiculous, with her hands and ankles wrapped in wire. Shoshana was the only chance.

  She said, “Shoshana, you all right?”

  Shoshana glanced at her in an offhand, glazed way. She repeated, “Shoshana?”

  The man in the chair leaned forward, putting a finger to his lips. Jennifer realized he didn’t speak English.

  How that would help, she was unsure. She knew they had only minutes before the other two men returned. Which meant one shot to get Shoshana back.

  She shouted, “Shoshana!”

  Shoshana jerked at her name, and the man in the chair leaned forward, lightly smacking Jennifer in the face, saying, “Nyet.”

  The roughness of the man brought home her lack of choices, the fear now closing in like the debilitating cloak that Shoshana wore.

  Way out. Gotta be a way out. Always a way out. Think.

  Her earbud crackled, and she thought it was from the slap. Then she heard her mentor.

  The way out.

  “Carrie, Koko, Carrie, Koko, this is Pike. You copy?”

  She was electrified at the words, but couldn’t respond.

  It came through again. “Carrie, Koko, Carrie, Koko, this is Pike. Come back.”

  She did, glancing at the guard. She mumbled, as if she were just talking to herself. “Pike, Koko. We’re in deep shit. Need help. Now.”

 
; The man looked at her, and she realized her first assessment had been correct. He didn’t understand English. She kept her head bowed, mumbling. He let her go.

  Pike came back, speaking as calmly as if he was ordering a pizza, which meant he understood how bad things had become.

  “Need info. What’s going on?”

  “We’ve been captured. I’m bound. Mikhail is coming back any second. He’s going to torture us for information.”

  She heard nothing, then, “Tell him everything. Don’t hold back. Give it all to him. Fuck the mission. Where’s Shoshana?”

  “She’s here. Mikhail hit her in the head. Her earbud is gone.”

  “Tell her the same thing. Buy time. Tell them whatever they want to know.”

  “Pike, I don’t think that’ll be enough.”

  “Can you escape? Did they put regular handcuffs on you? Something you can pick?”

  “No. I’m wrapped up in clothes hangers.”

  “Shoshana?”

  “She’s free.”

  “What? Say again?”

  The guard leaned into Jennifer and tapped her on the head with the barrel of his weapon, saying again, “Nyet.”

  She moaned, then muttered something as if she were as subdued as Shoshana. He leaned back, satisfied.

  She said into the radio, “Pike, she’s lost it. She’s done. She took one look at Mikhail and shut down. She’s no help.”

  She heard “What are you saying? Are you talking about Shoshana?”

  “Pike, it’s like Cougar in Top Gun. She’s catatonic. I need you here. She’s no fucking help. Get your ass here.”

  She heard the worst words she could imagine. “I can’t get there. I’m tracking the train right now, but there’s no way for me to board.”

  She was like an astronaut in a space capsule, hurtling out of control to Earth, death on the horizon, knowing there was nothing mission control could do to prevent it. She felt the tears in her eyes and hated them.

  She said, “Pike, he’s going to kill us.”

  She heard nothing, knowing Pike was tearing himself apart at his inability to do anything. Then he came back, with a different tone. “Jennifer, we’re about to have to turn off. The road is going to leave the tracks and we’re going to lose radio comms. Tell Shoshana something from me. Tell her loudly. Shout it.”

  “What?”

  “Tell her Nephilim wants to see the Pumpkin King. Tell her she is the Pumpkin King. Tell her she holds her own destiny.”

  “What the hell are you saying?”

  “Just do it. Tell her . . .”

  The radio broke contact, and the door opened. She had no idea what Pike meant by his words, and was now on the verge of becoming catatonic herself. Mikhail entered alone, saying, “I think we’ve figured out how to handle this. Once we’re through with our interrogation.”

  He moved to Shoshana and said, “But before we start with the rough stuff, let’s do what we used to enjoy.”

  He turned so his belt was in front of her and said, “Remember?”

  Resigned, Shoshana began working the buckle. To Jennifer it was surreal. Like she was watching a show outside of her body. Seeing the strongest woman she’d ever known succumb over nothing more than a given command.

  52

  Shoshana continued obediently, and Jennifer realized she wasn’t going to fight. The thought brought a blast of panic. She jerked her wire bonds sharply, trying to break them open, screaming for help. When that failed, she leapt out of her chair, falling on the ground and writhing toward the door. The Russian guarding her slapped her in the face, then pulled her upright, sitting her back in the chair. He leaned forward, and she regained her view, seeing Shoshana looking at her with pity.

  Jennifer bored into her eyes and said, “Nephilim talked to me. On the radio.”

  She got a response. A flicker. Jennifer continued, “He told me to tell you he wants the Pumpkin King. He wants it right now.”

  The Russian slapped Jennifer in the face, hard enough to knock her out of the chair. Shoshana continued working the buckle.

  On the ground, Jennifer felt the blood in her mouth, spit it out, and said, “Shoshana, Nephilim said you are the Pumpkin King.”

  There was no discernable difference in the room. None that the men could see, but the world they were in shifted on its axis. Jennifer recognized it, mystified as to why, but knowing she’d finally reached her. A twisted smile spread across Shoshana’s face, and the dark angel appeared, Shoshana changing in front of her eyes. A cloak of death enveloped her, and she set about doing what few on earth could.

  With her right hand inside Mikhail’s pants, she viciously squeezed. Mikhail screamed and flailed at her arms. She released her grip and went at him, all elbows and sharp edges in the confining space, battering his head over and over. Mikhail fell backward and the Russian security man rose, bringing his weapon to bear. Shoshana slapped the pistol aside and hammered him in the temple. He ignored the blow, wrapping her up in his arms and bringing her to the ground.

  Mikhail stumbled out of the room hunched over, his pants around his thighs, slamming the door behind him. The Russian rolled on top of Shoshana, trying to get his weapon into play. Her entire body contained within his embrace, she whipped her head forward, hammering him between his eyes with the hard mallet of her forehead, then tore into his nose with her teeth, savagely ripping.

  The Russian wailed and pounded her with the butt of his pistol. Jennifer flopped over the both of them, grabbing the pistol between her bound hands. She fell backward, using her weight, and the pistol came free. She rolled over, trying for a shot without killing Shoshana.

  She shouted, “Shoshana! Fall off!”

  The Russian realized what was about to occur, and bear-hugged Shoshana, crushing her spine with his enormous strength. Shoshana grunted loudly, reached up with her thumbs, and plunged them into the man’s eyes. He screamed and released her, bringing his hands up to his destroyed orbs. She curled her fingers at the first joint and speared his throat, crushing his larynx.

  He collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain. His lungs screamed for air, but his larynx swelled with the shattering blow, cutting off his oxygen. He began wheezing, until he could no longer even do that. In seconds, he was dead.

  Breathing heavily, Shoshana looked up at Jennifer, a savage smile on her face, a trickle of blood running out of the corner of her mouth. She said, “I am the Pumpkin King.”

  Seeing the man’s destroyed face, his nose hanging by gristle, both eyes leaking fluid, Jennifer said, “I have no idea what that means. I’m just glad I didn’t ask for something greater than fruit royalty. Lock the door.”

  Shoshana did, right before someone rattled it to get in.

  Jennifer said, “We need to get the hell out of here.”

  Both of them jumped as someone on the other side began shooting into the lock. Jennifer fired three rounds through the door, ceasing the attempt at entry.

  Jennifer said, “Help me with these.”

  Shoshana went to work on the makeshift binds, saying, “He’ll be back. Should we hunt him, or run?”

  Jennifer broke the wiring to her hands and said, “Run.”

  Shoshana separated the ankle bonds and said, “We should kill him. Right now.”

  Jennifer saw the dark angel still there. The hatred. She said, “There’s one more Russian out there with a gun. I say we take this as a win.”

  Shoshana looked up at her, and the dark angel receded. “Okay, Koko. You saved my life tonight. And I will save yours.”

  She turned to the window, and bullets began slamming through the door. Jennifer leapt on the bed, getting out of the line of fire. Shoshana did the same, rolling underneath the bunk. Jennifer fired three more rounds through the door, and the weapon locked open, the magazine empty. The shooting stopped from the other side.<
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  Shoshana rolled out and grabbed the window’s emergency exit lever, flipping it up and flinging the glass into the night. The air rushed in, the noise of the train exploding inside the small enclosure.

  Shoshana said, “You first.”

  Jennifer said, “Search that body. Get anything you can,” then exited out into the night.

  She clambered up the side of the train, using the window ledge, bolts, and seams to get to the top, the wind whipping at her, trying hard to peel her away. She pulled herself to the roof and looked below, waiting on Shoshana, the clanking noise of the wheels pounding in her ears. Shoshana appeared, clambering out the window. She was halfway to the roof when the second Russian’s head popped out. He looked up, then brought his arm through, a pistol in his hand.

  Jennifer shouted, and Shoshana kicked, knocking the weapon into the darkness. Shoshana climbed as fast as she could, and the man followed. Shoshana made it to the top and the man grabbed her leg. Jennifer jerked Shoshana’s arms in an insane game of tug-of-war, breaking her free. They rolled on the roof of the train, the wind threatening to whip them off, the car rocking back and forth.

  The man made it to the top and stood up, yelling something in Russian. Shoshana and Jennifer scrambled away. He followed, trying to run, but was reduced to a shuffle by the motion of the train.

  Shoshana stood up and the man waved her forward, like a prizefighter taunting an opponent. Shoshana let loose a banshee wail and dove right at him. She hit him in the middle of the gut, knocking him backward. His eyes flew wide in shock, his arms flailing for contact to prevent the inevitable. They both hit the top of the train within inches of the edge.

  He slipped over the side, holding on with one hand. Shoshana remained on top. She pounded his hand, then peeled the fingers back, and he fell screaming under the wheels.

  The train kept barreling along, the wind still whistling over them. Shoshana eventually rolled over, sliding to the middle of the car. Jennifer bear-crawled to her, wrapping her in her arms.