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Outside, a few clouds had moved in to clutter the blue sky, and beyond the rail, the ocean was deep blue and a little frothy. She spotted a couple men at the rail. They’d hooked a black bag onto a crane and were now positioning it over the water. Weights hung at the bottom of the bag.
Judah sat down beside her and set more hot tea in front of her.
“What are they doing?”
“That’s a burial at sea. Probably the former twenty-three.”
She turned, stared at him, even as he took a sip of his tea. “Good man. His name was Vasily. He got cut by a rusty shovel a few weeks ago.”
She turned back just in time to see the body drop into the sea. “But we’re at shore. The corpse will just rise to the surface.”
“No. It’s weighted. And this is a deep-water port. And we’re sitting on top of the shelf. On the port side, the sea wall drops off past six hundred feet. And the current is strong and takes everything right out into the Bering Sea. The corpse is gone, forever.” He took a breath, glanced at her. “I suppose it’s one way to escape.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
He smiled. “Not that anyone does. There’s not been one successful escape attempt in all the time I’ve been here.”
“Why are you here?”
He sighed, set down his tea. He had kind eyes, a few wrinkles around them. “I made the wrong people angry.”
Her thoughts went to Lukka’s father, probably some mafia lord.
“And why are you here?” He raised an eyebrow. “Try and smuggle a little weed in with you on your epic vacation to Moscow?”
Her mouth open. “No. I was kidnapped in Geneva. And I have no idea why. And then they were going to sell me into some human trafficking ring, but instead they sent me here while they try and tap my uncle for a ransom.” Her voice had begun to shake, and he pressed a hand to her arm.
“Breathe. It’s okay. You keep your head down, do your job, eat your food, drink your tea, and stay away from Vikka and her ilk, and you’ll survive.”
She again pressed her hand to her mouth. But, okay. “Probably, it won’t be long. Uncle Ian will ransom me.” Or Ned would find her.Please.
But she had to be done with crying. For now. Because it got her nowhere but despair.
Judah’s mouth tightened. A few of the prisoners were getting up, returning their trays, getting more tea.
“What?”
He sighed. “It’s just that, right after I was taken, a ransom was offered to my family. They came up with the money, and it was delivered, but…” He raised a shoulder. “The Bratva isn’t going to give up something that is valuable, and as long as my family wanted me, I was money for them.”
“But they paid for you.”
“They did.” He finished his tea. “Unfortunately, it takes more than that to get out of here. Finish your noodles. The guard will be here soon.”
She dove into her noodles, gulping down her tea, and tried not to let his words strangle her.
A horn sounded, and around her, the prisoners got up.
“What’s happening?”
Judah picked up his tray. “Stay with me, and you’ll be okay. But be sure to put on your coat and your hat—and don’t lose that hat.”
She put on her coat and clutched her hat as she followed him. He stood just over six foot and led her out as they returned their trays and went to stand outside.
“Line up according to number,” Judah said to her now, and she got in line in front of him, weirdly calm knowing he was right behind her. Two lines formed—their fifty occupants, and another fifty from the other side of the ship.
She hazarded a glance and spotted maybe thirty women, total.
The wind buzzed in her ears, and she pulled on her wool cap, found it instantly warm. Her hands she balled at her sides.
