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Manny grinned. “Do you see these aliases? Qatar, UK, France, Germany…Countries all over the world are funding this research.”
“You’re playing with fire, Manny.”
“That’s part of the fun.”
Ross stared at the picture of the girl on the table. “What’s her name?” He asked.
Manny picked up the photo and turned it this way, that way.
“Her name is Angel,” said Manny. “Here— you might find this interesting.” He handed Ross a sketchbook from inside his desk.
“She’s an artist?” Ross flipped through the sketches, impressed.
“She is. Don’t you have an interest?”
“Nice try, Manny. The answer is still no.”
Manny nodded. “Keep the sketchbook anyway.”
“No…”
“I insist. She would insist, if she were here.”
5
TAKEN
They locked the door at all times. Sometimes they put a guard. She was afraid of him.
Nobody here would talk to her. None of these people even spoke English at all. She heard commotion on a street outside— music playing day and night. Pop music, but in some funky ass language she had never heard in her life.
She was in a city. A big city. Where? Somewhere in China? No, Korea. She remembered that Poboy had been beefing with the Koreans…
Was Korea always this hot? The room was humid and nasty. They fed her, gave her a toilet, and kept her in the room. That was basically it. At least she had a window.
Angel tried making noise one day, a lot of noise. Screaming and throwing stuff at the walls. That was a mistake. Nobody down there on the street could hear her, and the guard lost his shit, going off on her in Mongolian or whatever the fuck language it was. Then some big-backed Asian lady came in the room and slapped fire from her ass. That was the end of that plan.
Angel realized she had no choice but to wait. Begging the people did absolutely nothing. The girl who brought her food was like a mouse. The guard at the door was crazy. She had no choice but to wait for something else to happen. For now she just cooled out in this hot-ass room with nothing in the world to do but be grateful she wasn’t at Poboy’s.
She didn’t get much sleep, even without Poboy.
There was a TV, but it was broken.
Angel still had no idea why she was here, or wherehereeven was. What had happened to Poboy, Shug, any of the crew?
What would happen toher?
Last Angel remembered, Poboy was trying to get a threesome on with Shug. The door blown in. Poboy hollering at her, Sirens, everybody shouting, shouting, shouting, and then all of it was just white noise and the smell of smoke and burned meat.
Angel had watched in a daze as the Koreans dragged Shug away. But she had her own problems to deal with. Poboy’s gun had went off right next to her ear. She fell to her knees as the Koreans dragged Shug away screaming. It felt like a hot wet bubble was growing in her ear canal. The pain was the worst she’d ever felt in her life. Like a giant spider was trying to eat her head. My God. She passed the fuck out. When she woke up, she was…here.
Here.
In China/Korea/Thailand.
Days passed. Weeks. She thought she might actually go crazy in that room. She only had the bed, and a TV that was broken. Not even cards or dice or nothing.
The guard. In her wildest moments she imagined she could get him on her side, which meant she might have to let him fuck.
