Page 31 of Theta

She nods, head tipped slightly to one side. "You have to commit to it. If you hold back, you die."

"Yeah, Sasha drilled that into my head, too."

Story shifts on the bed, scooting to the foot and standing up. "I have to pee, actually. Maybe we can use that."

I nod, thinking. "He's pretty careful, but I think we can make it work. Maybe…" I pause, working through scenarios in my head, trying to find one that won't get us both shot. "It's a risk."

"Better than the alternative."

"True." I shrug. "Okay, so here's what I'm thinking. You go to the bathroom. I'll hide behind the door, and when he brings you back in, I'll make my move. Hit him with the door or something."

Story frowns, then nods. "It'll have to do. I can't come up with anything better." She moves to the door, then pauses, letting out a breath with a look at me. "Ready?"

I nod once, lounging on the bed as if relaxed. "Go for it."

She lets out another breath, squares her shoulders. "Okay. Let's do this."

She raps on the door and steps back, waiting. After a few seconds, the door unlocks and opens, and the guard stands in the doorway. "What you are wanting?"

"I have to use the bathroom," Story says.

The guard eyes me, then Story, and then nods. "Okay. Come, come." He points at me. "You stay."

I hold up both hands, palms out. "Okay."

Story exits the room, and the guard closes and re-locks the door. No dummy, this guy. The plan seems tenuous at best, but it’s all we’ve got.

But what other choice do we have? Holding me on a container ship for two weeks or however long is a pretty clever move—prevents any accidental sightings or whatever. I'd have just vanished without a trace. We're on our own until we can get word to someone, somehow. And to do that, we have to get away.

I hear the bathroom door close, a long pause, and then the faint sounds of a faucet. The door opening again.

That's my cue.

I move to put my back to the wall so the door will open toward me. I run through unarmed combat movements in my head, rehearsing my plan: wait for the door to open, wait till I see Story clear the door, then slam the door into the guard. Disarm and take down. Kill, if I have to.

God, I really don't want to have to.

I'm nauseated and shaky as I ready myself behind the door.

The locks disengage and the hinges creak softly as the door swings open.

"What is this?" I hear the guard murmur. "Dove sì trova? Hey, your boyfriend. Where he is?"

"I…um…" I hear Story say, and I see her feet not quite clearing the door.

Shit. C'mon, clear it.

She shuffles forward and pretends to trip over her own feet, sprawling melodramatically forward into the room.

"Hey, watch it! You are okay? What you tripped on?" The guard's bulky form casts a shadow, and that's when I make my move.

6

So Burn Me

The fake stumble was a last-second decision. If nothing else, my hope was that if the guard behind me decided to start shooting, hopefully his shots would miss.

For a split-second, nothing happens.