I have no one but myself to blame for the mess I’m in. Will I be one of the fortunate few who gets to tell her story? Or will I disappear like thousands of others, slipping through the cracks of a Russian city?
Alex’s voice penetrates the fog of my tumultuous thoughts. “Hungry?”
“No, thanks.”
It’s not as if I’ll be able to eat. Not that it matters. He’ll probably threaten to hand-feed me if I don’t eat everything on my plate, just like he did last night.
“It’s past lunchtime in Russia, and you haven’t had breakfast,” he says. “I’ll make sure a meal is waiting when we arrive.”
I don’t reply. What’s the point? He’s made it clear my opinion doesn’t matter.
After a while, he releases my hand to check something on his phone, and I breathe easier. The anger and worry don’t diminish, but I don’t have a vent for those emotions. I have no choice but to bottle them up inside.
The buildings grow in size until gray, drab blocks dominate the view through my window. A control tower and runway become visible. Alex braces me with an arm around my shoulders even though the landing is smooth. The minute the plane touches down, he’s on his feet, barking out orders in Russian.
The men don their jackets and weapons. Alex leans an arm on the overhead baggage compartment above the window, scanning our surroundings with singular attention as the plane taxies to a hangar on the outskirts of the airport.
Leonid, who’s examining a computer screen, says, “No interference detected.”
Alex doesn’t take his eyes off the window. “Keep the satellite surveillance active.”
A convoy of black cars with tinted windows is parked on the tarmac. Men in dark suits with automatic rifles are stationed around the area in a circle. The blatant display of firepower makes my mouth go dry.
It looks like a war zone or a drug deal about to go down.
When the plane comes to a standstill, Igor appears with an off-white coat that he hands to Alex. Alex says something to him in Russian as he accepts the coat, at which Igor hurries to open the door.
“What did you say to him?” I ask, anxious to know what’s going on.
Alex holds the coat open in silent instruction for me. “I told him to make sure it’s safe before we go outside.”
Stomach knotting with worry, I look at the armed men through the window as he helps me into the coat. “Why wouldn’t it be safe? Who are those men?”
“Don’t worry,” he says, turning me to face him. “They work for me.” He adjusts the lapels of the coat before buttoning it up. “Checking things out is just a precaution. I prefer to take nothing for granted.”
“What does that mean?” I try to read his expression, but he’s good at keeping a poker face. “That they’ll betray you?”
He takes a scarf from the overhead compartment and winds it around my neck. “Unlikely, but a man like me shouldn’t take chances. Now stop concerning yourself with these matters. I have everything under control.”
Igor sticks his head around the door. “All clear. We’re good to move.”
“Come,” Alex says, making his way to the front.
“Alex,” I call after him.
He stops to look at me.
“You need to lay all the cards on the table. This is my life too.”
There’s no amusement or patience in his smile any longer. “I already told you that I’ll protect you. You’ll have to learn to trust me.”
Yeah, sure. Treating me like a prisoner has destroyed our trust, and keeping me in the dark won’t help repair what he’s damaged. I want to say as much, but he’s already taking a hat with a wool lining from a coat closet next to the door. He waits until I’ve caught up with him and hands me the hat. When I’ve pulled it over my ears, he gives me a pair of leather gloves the same color as my boots.
I watch him from under my eyelashes as I pull on the gloves. His stance is rigid. I’ve never seen him so tense, not even when Igor was being treated for the gunshot wound.
His stress rubs off on me. Whatever he’s expecting isn’t good, and his refusal to explain only makes my anxiety worse.
A gush of frosty air hits me in the face when he ushers me outside. The winter feels different here than in New York City. This cold penetrates the wool layers of my expensive clothes all the way to my bones.
Alex throws an arm around my shoulders, sheltering me against his side as he leads me to one of the cars. It’s as if nothing is wrong between us. I try to break free, but he tightens his hold.
A man standing at attention next to the car opens the passenger-side door in the back. Alex helps me inside and takes the seat next to me. I scoot all the way to the window, leaving space between us. With how I feel about his actions, I’d rather be exposed to the subzero temperature than huddle against him.