by Plum, AB
“Well now, I see you’ve worked up an appetite.” He set the bag in the middle of the desk but made no move to untie the gag. “You eat when I’m ready to feed you, understand?”
I nodded.
“Here are the ground rules.”
My heart dropped, but I nodded.
“I’ll release one hand. The one you’re stretching over the other one, don’t you think?”
My eyes went hot, and my ears rang. What the hell is he blithering about?
“Freeing the hand clamped to the post leaves you in an awkward position for eating, don’t you agree?”
Of course I nodded.
“Right. So … we understand each other. Not an easy task. But as hungry as you are, you could eat standing on your head, right?”
Asshole. The silent expletive boomeranged inside my skull.
“Isn’t that right, Michael? You’d suffer any humiliation for a French fry?”
My head started to tip forward in agreement, but I locked my jaw and held my head rigid. Let him have his fun. I’d suddenly lost my appetite.
“Now don’t pout. I’m simply testing your fortitude.”
Bastard. Fucking bastard. Go to hell. I swiveled my gaze to the window.
The damn sun now cast a warm glow into the cabin—giving it a cozy atmosphere at odds with the harshness of reality.
“Okay, I’m sure this isn’t the first night you’ll go to bed without supper.”
And it won’t be the last. The cliché popped—unbidden—into my head. Behind my gag, I smiled. Baseball Cap had no way of knowing that my loving mother once sent me to bed for three consecutive nights without dinner. Dimitri, she forced to eat at the table with her. When she discovered the second night he’d smuggled me a piece of bread, she locked him in our bedroom while she and Brother Alexei dined like royalty.
Fortunately, my father arrived and put an end to her torture.
Fortunately, I survived.
Unfortunately, she hated me even more from that moment on.
“To prove I am a stand-up guy,” Baseball Cap interrupted my memory, “I’ll let you go to the bathroom before you go to bed.”
In a matter of seconds, he removed the gag and unlocked both sets of cuffs. In his graciousness, he allowed me to stretch my aching back. When my feet hit the floor, he picked up the gun and followed me to the closet-sized WC. The door remained open while my piss trickled into the metal urinal. I took my time, but saw nothing I could use to attack him. He finally ordered me to “zip up my dick.”
“My French fries are getting cold,” he added.
I imagined myself charging him. Butting him under the chin. Knocking him to the floor. Encircling his throat with the handcuffs.
He motioned the gun’s barrel toward the bunk. Shoulders squared, I mounted the ladder. He hooked the handcuff to the post, waited until I crawled under the cover, turned, and handed me a cup of water. In his open palm lay a small white pill.
“You’ll sleep like a baby and won’t feel at all hungry.”
I took it. Not because I believed him. But because I remembered the shot they’d administered to Dimitri. I took it because I knew it wasn’t lethal.
Whatever they had in mind, they weren’t ready to kill me—yet.
Chapter 18
Waking Up to a Bright, New Day
“God morgen!” Baseball Cap shook my shoulder, his voice exploding like a cannon in my ears. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get up, go to the loo, and eat the rest of the French fries.”
Before I had much more than opened my eyes, he unlocked the handcuffs and picked up the gun. He herded me to the WC, waiting for me to do my business, replaying the scene from the night before. Except this time, he did let me eat. The cold, greasy French fries tasted better than anything I’d ever wolfed down.
As I ate, he informed me of the day’s agenda. We’d dock in Stockholm and go directly to a ferry bound for Helsinki. The crossing would take sixteen hours. Dimitri and I would remain in separate cabins. If we cooperated, we’d eat.
“It’s a new day, m’boy. Everything depends on how well you cooperate.”
Of course it did. Still hungry, I nodded. I could feign cooperation.
“Good. That’s settled. The handcuffs stay off—as long as you do what I say.”
Do what I say… a variation on cooperation. “Thank you.”
I hardly recognized my subdued voice.
He laughed. “A word of advice. Don’t underestimate me.”
At a loss for words, I said nothing, body tensed, smelling danger.
Suddenly, his hand shot out. He twisted my ear. The force lifted me off my feet. “Another word of advice. Accept you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
Chapter 19
Seeing Dimitri Again
Baseball Cap and I got off the elevator with half a dozen passengers. None of them spoke after saying good morning. Alcohol fumes, mixed with the smell of oil and gasoline, hung in the confined space as we stepped into the zone where we’d left the car. Blue-white fluorescent lights buzzed, adding a surreal feeling to the cave-like area.
Baseball Cap kept me close as we moved side by side down a wide aisle. Cars to our left exited in slow motion. My eyes stung, but I didn’t need to see. There was no escape. We stopped at the Benz. Baseball Cap shoved me inside, bumping my head against the door jamb.
Dimitri resembled a recently disinterred corpse. Deep purple bruises encircled his swollen left eye. His puffy cheek was tight and shiny. A split in his lower lip probably needed at least a couple of stitches. When I crawled into the backseat, his head lolled against the window. He made no effort to greet me.
Any dentist who had left him in such shape would lose his license.
Thank God that’s not me. I swallowed.
Baseball Cap motioned Kari in next to me and shut the door, saying, “Your friend has a great deal to learn about cooperation. I suspect that’s due to his serf ancestry, don’t you?”
“I don’t know anything about his … ancestry.”
His lip curled. “They lived like animals. No appreciation for beauty.”
The last statement surprised me more than the first. He slid into the passenger seat and the car started.
“On the other hand, your mother,” he said in a dreamy voice, “loved beauty. Her soul radiated pure beauty.”
Was that why she hated me? I was ugly? Admittedly, I was different. But ugly?
Baseball Cap barked instructions to Olavi, drowning out my questions. I looked at my friend’s maimed face. I would look far worse if I failed to use my brain.
Chapter 20
Taking a Side Trip
Heavy, depressing rain clouds hid the sun on the trip to the ferry station. Although this was my first time in Stockholm, I wasn’t interested in the continuous rows of long, aluminum buildings on either side of the car. The gray skies felt as if an unseen hand had dropped a wet coat over my head. Eyes closed, Dimitri took no notice of the escalating tension in the car.
Kari’s skin looked as if he’d scrubbed it with steel wool. He stared at the back of Baseball Cap’s bare head and tugged on his bottom lip. He touched the top of the carry-on twice, then let his hand drop onto the seat between us. The glass window separating the front and backseats remained closed, but I watched Baseball Cap poring over documents he rearranged several times before placing them in a leather folder, which he zipped shut.
Without warning, we swerved off the main street, drove a few minutes, and stopped. Windowless storage buildings behind chain-link fences surrounded us. Except for our car, the place was deserted.
The taste of stale French fries came up in the back of my throat. My shoulders tensed. What if they dumped me and Dimitri in one of the warehouses? How long before anyone found us?
Baseball Cap stepped onto the street, pulling open Kari’s door.
“Now what?” Kari demanded.
“Get out,” Baseball Cap ordered.
“Why?” A slight tremble rode Kari’s be
lligerence.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll shoot you.” Baseball Cap removed the gun from his pocket and pointed it at Kari’s face.
Face and lips went white as paper. Muscles twitched under both his eyes. “All right.”
His voice carried the rasp of someone with a crushed larynx.
Stupid, I thought. You should’ve called his bluff.
He grabbed the open door, but tottered as he straightened. “The ambas—”
“Shut your stupid face.”
Kari held his hands up like a traffic cop. “All right, all right.”
“Today is your lucky day,” Baseball Cap said. A second later, he whipped the gun’s barrel across Kari’s nose.
Blood gushed. Kari howled and fell to his knees, covering his nose.
“Get up.” Baseball Cap reached inside the car and threw a white cloth in the bleeding man’s face. “Clean up and get in the front seat without another word.”
Chapter 21
Acting “Normal”
While Kari held the cloth to his face and whimpered, Baseball Cap motioned me to move behind the seat he’d vacated minutes earlier. I did as instructed without hesitation. He slammed the back door, bumped Kari’s shoulder roughly, and sauntered on to the front of the car. He stopped and examined the hood ornament. Kari leaned over his knees, coughing and puking. My fingers itched with the desire to open the back door and streak across the empty wasteland.
Of course Baseball Cap would shoot me—probably wounding me versus killing me. He’s playing cat and mouse. Letting me think he’s dropped his guard. Showing me what happened to Kari will happen to me.
In the distance, black clouds scudded together and blotted out the sky. A brisk wind gusted across the parking lot, swirling dust into the air. Baseball Cap meandered to Olavi’s side of the car. His red hair shot out in several directions—as if he’d been mildly electrocuted. He opened the back door.
“Good reflexes,” he said.
Bastard. I tightened my grip on Dimitri’s right shoulder, digging my fingers into flesh. Dammit, Dimitri. Wake up.
His head lolled forward and drool dribbled between his swollen lips.
Baseball Cap shoved his other shoulder viciously, moving his ass an inch across the backseat. “You pull. I’ll push.”
Teeth clamped together, I followed his instructions.
Dimitri’s dead weight slid another inch toward me.
“Last time,” Baseball Cap said. “We can always dump him here.”
Icy sweat trickled down my neck, but I said, “Let me try.”
“Sure, go ahead.” Baseball Cap stepped back and made a mock bow. “Be the hero.”
The taunt—so like the words my older brother used to reduce me to impotence—energized me. Cleared my head. I put one arm behind Dimitri and one in front of him, laced my fingers together, and literally lifted him into the middle of the seat.
The jagged moan he emitted sent goosebumps sliding up and down my spine.
“You just saved your pal’s ass.” Baseball Cap slapped the roof, yelling, “Stop mewling, Kari. Heave your ass into the front seat. We’re ready to go.”
He didn’t wait for Kari to shut the door. He ordered Olavi to take off, and we peeled out of the parking lot as the darkness gave chase.
Chapter 22
Figuring Things Out
The line of cars waiting to board the ferry stretched for at least two blocks. Even with the windows up, the smell of fumes filled the Benz. Baseball Cap swore, tapped the window, and spoke rapidly in Finnish to Olavi. The few words I picked up made no sense and raised the memory of Kari saying, The ambas—
For a fraction of a moment, I’d thought he’d been referring to Ambassador Karppinen—the Finnish ambassador to Denmark. The bottom feeder my mother had been screwing before she put a bullet through her brain. The asshole hated my guts and had tried to stir up a police investigation into her suicide.
Baseball Cap closed the connecting window and faced me. “Getting into Finland is harder than leaving Stockholm. We need a story to cover Kari’s nose and your pal’s coma. Blink twice at the border guard, and Dimitri will never wake up.”
The story he proceeded to weave sounded like some kind of unbelievable American comic book plot, but I kept my opinion to myself. Perhaps, though, it was no more bizarre than my idea that the Finnish ambassador was behind my kidnapping. Surely an ambassador would hire professionals with some smarts, and not buffoons with bizarre fantasies.
When we finally reached the head of the line, the guard barely glanced at the papers Olavi presented. I deliberately avoided eye contact as he counted heads, double checked the passports, and waved us through.
I could’ve predicted that was how Baseball Cap’s plan would play out.
Lesson relearned: Exhibit fearlessness in situations where you are guilty, and you can get by with any crime.
Handcuffed to the bunk that night, I fell asleep wondering who the hell had hired my kidnappers and dreaming of plans to escape.
Without Dimitri since I didn’t know where he was.
Once again, they’d separated us. But I’d come back for him. With the police.
Then … I would be a hero.
Chapter 23
Lost Time
A steady hum punched into my awareness. I tried to open my eyes. An invisible elephant sat on my eyelids. They refused to cooperate. A dull, unrelenting ache throbbed in my left hip. I shifted my weight. Involuntarily, I moaned. My mouth tasted like rotten eggs.
“Stop thrashing around up there.” The voice sounded familiar.
“My hip …” The words slipped away. The pain persisted.
“Hurts because you’re thrashing around, genius.”
Somehow, I forced my eyes open. The ceiling was dropping on top of me. I cried out.
A tall figure with long red hair and slitted blue eyes appeared at my side. “Now, what the hell?”
“Where—am I dreaming?”
“Probably a nightmare. Maybe in sleep you have a conscience.”
“What—I don’t … understand.”
“I gave you a shot, you twit. I wanted a break. You don’t think I like your company, do you?”
“I’m … confused.”
“No, you’re drugged. Now, shut up and go to sleep. If I give you another dose of the happy stuff, you might not wake up in the morning.”
Fear somersaulted deep inside my stomach. My bladder burned. I opened my mouth to protest.
"Of course if you didn’t wake up in the morning, no loss to the world. Who would care? Your friend Dimitri, maybe—if he makes it through the night.”
I snapped my mouth shut and closed my eyes as if teetering on the edge of sleep. Thanks to the drug, pretending became reality.
Chapter 24
A New Day
Now. Open your eyes. Groggy, my mind lurched and staggered toward consciousness. You can do this. Concentrate. Move your little fingers.
The stillness around me was absolute. Behind closed eyelids, I imagined the command from my brain waking my muscles. No movement.
Maybe I’m dead. Without warning my little fingers twitched.
An invisible nail plunged into my hip. I flinched. Cried out. Fought the reaction to gag. Squeezed my eyes tighter. Sweat dripped off my eyebrows into my closed eyes. I wiped at the sting and tasted salt. The searing pain eased into a dull throb. I opened one eye. A fraction of an inch.
Not enough to orient myself.
Not enough to retrieve from memory why I lay flat on my back, my mind blank.
Wherever I was, in time and space, I knew I didn’t want to be there.
I opened my other eye, kept both open, and took in more sensory data. Fully dressed, I smelled stale. Unclean. I touched my hair. Damp with sweat. Unwashed. The foul taste of—I couldn’t bring up a memory for comparison—coated my tongue. The ceiling—inches above my head—fired the first synapse in my brain.
A long, mournful moan erupted in a series of
rapid-fire, intertwined memories falling out of the darkness like shooting stars.
The ferry to Finland. Baseball Cap. Tivoli. Dimitri. The two of us in the Mercedes. Kidnapped. Beaten. Drugged.
Overcome by the non-stop memory fragments, I rolled to my side and yelped at the image of Baseball Cap coming toward me with a hypodermic needle.
Christ, the needle could fell a cow. I resisted the impulse to touch my hip and threw my feet over the side of the bunk.
The door swung open.
Chapter 25
Fighting Fear
“Ahh. Awake, heh?” Baseball Cap’s voice rose to a childish, sing-song pitch.
A foreshadow of more torture?
“I need to use the … bathroom.” Unless the WC was one step away, I’d never make it.
“Peanut bladder, huh?” A hint of annoyance rode his tone.
The ladder to the top bunk stood to my left—just out of reach. Instinct warned that my hip probably wouldn’t support my weight on the skinny rungs.
“Perhaps you would like a hand.”
Fuck you. “Thank you.”
“You actually sound like a normal human being.” He extended his right hand, but kept a distance that prevented me kicking him in the chest.
My hip throbbed deep in the joint. My bladder burned and seemed twice its normal size. My mind raced. I extended my hand—tentatively—like a dog routinely beaten, but taking one more risk for the meat in his master’s hand. I slipped forward on the edge of the bunk.
If he pulls back … I had a clear flash of me in a nose-dive.
“C’mon, c’mon.”
“I’m a little shaky.”
“Mess your pants, you’ll wear them for the rest of the day. And night. What a baby. Screw up your courage. Remember giving those damn pictures to your mother.”
The ice in his tone scared me more than if he’d yelled, but the thought of my mother viewing the pictures released a jolt of adrenaline. My hip ached just as much, but I stretched my hand and locked onto his wrist like an eel.
