Chapter 6

Shaun was expecting to feel a raw ripping pain tear through her, followed closely by death. She wasn't expecting to have someone grip her arm and wrench her up to her feet. The move was so fast, so sudden, that she felt instantly dizzy. When her vision cleared, she was confronted with the intense, stunning blue eyes of her captor. His forehead was wrinkled in a frown.

"What are you doing?" the other man demanded. "We got what we need. Finish the job so we can get on with it."

She felt sick, genuinely nauseous to where she would've doubled over and gripped her knees if she could have. By 'finish the job,' he meant kill her. She was a loose end, a witness to a murder. They had no choice, she had to go. Jozef glared at the other man and then turned and dragged her toward the stairs.

Shaun was dizzy, hyperventilating, floaty. She was disassociating from what was happening. Multiple times in the space of an hour, she'd been positive she was going to die. Then, when the real thing finally came, when she was certain he intended to pull the trigger, something had held him back. She didn't know what, couldn't explain it. She couldn't even really be grateful that she was still alive. She couldn't possibly guess what was going to happen to her now.

Jozef pulled her up the stairs and through the house. She glanced around and saw dusty, unused furniture. There were still drop clothes on some of the items. She suspected the family that had lived there fled the war, closing up the house and moving somewhere safer. These guys were probably seizing on an opportunity to use it while it was empty. It was in a remote area outside of the city, ideal for criminal activity. At least, she hoped her hypothesis was true. What if they'd killed the family and were using the house as a base for their operations?

Jozef hauled her toward the van, opened the passenger door and flung her at it. She caught the edge of the frame and glanced back in time to see his leather jacket filling her vision. He didn't wait for her to climb in but shoved her until she was halfway laying across the seat and gripping the dashboard for balance. He stuffed her legs inside and slammed the door shut. She righted herself and turned to watch as he confronted the man who stormed out of the house behind him. They embarked on an angry conversation, the thug guy yelling at Jozef, and Jozef responding with rapid, angry hand gestures.

Shaun didn't know what they were saying, the conversation was too fast, too angry, and Jozef's back was to her so she couldn't see his hands. Finally, the guy gave a sharp nod and turned his malevolent gaze on her, staring at her through the passenger window. He pulled the van keys from his pocket and tossed them at Jozef, then he turned on his heel and strode back into the house.

Jozef watched the house for a few seconds, seeming to gather himself, then came around the front of the van and opened the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He ignored her, sliding the keys into the ignition and turning. As the engine flared to life, hope filled her chest. He hadn't killed her in the basement along with that other man, and he was taking her somewhere else, maybe back to the hospital. Hell, she didn't care if he ditched her in the middle of nowhere, she was just happy to be alive.

Shaun's relief was short-lived when Jozef turned off the main road and started following a bumpy dirt road into a sparsely wooded area. Her alarm grew as they continued to drive with no houses or signs of civilization. Her heart pounded and her palms grew clammy.

"Where are we going?" she asked, then shook her head at herself.

Of course, he couldn't answer while he was driving. He wouldn't even look at her, giving her absolutely no reassurance.

"Are you... are you... going to kill me?" she had some trouble forcing the words past a throat constricting with panic.

She gripped the door latch so tightly she thought it might leave a permanent mark in her hand. Not that it would matter if he was about to kill her shortly. Surreptitiously she tried the door, but it was child locked. She couldn't get out unless he let her out.

She tried to take long, even breaths, rather than shallow gasps. She thought back to the single class she'd taken on hostage situations. She'd travelled to war zones, often in places where terrorism was a real threat. It had seemed smart at the time to take a class on hostage negotiation in case she ever found herself in a situation that would demand that kind of skill. Between her panic and the fact that she'd taken the class about five years ago, she couldn't recall all the steps, but a few filtered through the terror.

Talk to the person holding you, humanize yourself in their eyes.

"I'm thirty-four." She looked directly at him as she spoke. Again, not so much as a twitch gave away that he was listening, but she was going to try anyway. "I'm a neurosurgeon in Montreal, Canada, but sometimes I work with Doctors Without Borders. We travel to other countries to help bolster the health-care system during times of crisis. I have a cat named Fitzwilliam Darcy, but we call him Fitzy. He lives with my mom when I'm not at home. He's a really good boy, he always eats all of his food, and he uses his litter box. Sometimes he gets out and causes havoc in the neighbourhood. He's a big guy and he likes to hunt, so he's brought home some pretty big birds."

Shaun was babbling, but she didn't know what else to do. She tried to clear her thoughts and start over. Jozef wouldn't care about her twenty-pound beast of an orange tabby. She had to somehow convince him that she was more valuable alive than dead. She needed to give him something of value, something he could relate to.

"I'm the only person my mom has left. My dad passed away a few years ago of pancreatic cancer. There was nothing we could do but watch him deteriorate." She closed her eyes and summoned a picture of her father in her mind. He was a big man, much bigger than either Shaun or her mother. He wore glasses, almost always had a serious expression that covered a playful nature. He taught neuroscience at the University. His funeral had been massive with mourners from all the different communities he'd been part of, including faculty and students from the university, colleagues from the hospital, and volunteers from various charitable organizations. He was so well loved. She needed that unconditional love and support right now, to get through whatever was coming her way. "My mom was devastated when he died, it took a lot to get her on her feet again. She needs me. She hates that I travel into war zones, she's terrified something will happen to me. Without me, she won't have anyone."

Despair pierced her as she realized not a single word was getting through. He continued to drive, though he was slowing down. If she was going to convince him, she had to do it now, before they got to their destination. She frantically searched for something, anything, that could sway him. Then she landed on it, their rare form of communication.

"You knew that I knew sign language, didn't you?"

His eyes slid to her for a second, then flicked forward.

"I've been trying to figure out how you knew to target me," she continued. "You knew that I could understand FSL; that's why you picked me, isn't it? But how did you know?" When he didn't answer, she continued, "You saw me with that kid, didn't you?"

Shaun had stumbled over a child, around ten years old, begging for food vouchers outside of a shop. She'd kneeled on the ground next to him and tried to talk to him, but he'd shaken his head and pointed at his ears. Sadly, it wasn't uncommon for either temporary or permanent hearing loss to occur from the concussive force of a bomb.

Shaun had used sign language with the boy. He'd tried to follow her hand movements, and she realized he was just learning sign language. She convinced him to come with her to the hospital for a quick checkup and to learn more sign language.

He'd run home to ask permission from his mom and had been coming to the hospital every day since. That had been about a week ago. She supposed Jozef could have seen her using it in the hospital, with her little protege following her around, but she doubted it. Someone as terrifying and imposing as Jozef would stand out.

Jozef looked at her and gave a brief nod. He refocused on his driving, turning the wheel and pulling the vehicle off the road. She felt dizzy with panic and lack of air. She continued to grip the door handle.

"You knew that I knew how to understand you before you realized you needed me. That man was injured sometime today." Her words came out in a jumble, but she hoped he understood. "Did you follow me back to the hospital that day? Were you curious about me? Because the only people who can understand you are probably in your inner circle." She was guessing, but maybe if she got close enough to the truth, she could connect with him.

He stopped the van and turned the ignition off. They were in a section of trees, not too thick, but remote enough to hide a dead body. Her body. No one would find her out here. Not for a long, long time. Shaun's mother would never know. Her daughter would disappear without a word. Dead in a warzone, but not because of the war.

Jozef turned to look at her, his forehead creased into a troubled frown.

Shaun stared back at him and then did the only thing she could think of to get through to him. She signed, please don't kill me. I don't want to die.

He gave no indication that he either saw or understood. His face smoothed back into indifference and he reached for his door. As soon as it opened, her door unlocked too. Shaun gripped the latch and yanked, then shoved the door open. She hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, so she was able to fling herself unhindered from the vehicle and start running.

Shaun was not a runner, but she kept herself in decent physical shape. Long hours on her feet at the hospital required that she take good care of herself. Eat nutritious foods, exercise whenever she could spare a few minutes. She thought she might have a decent chance of evading her captor. He was tall and bulky with muscle. How fast could a thug really run? He probably spent most of his time committing crimes instead of jogging.

He was on top of her in under a minute.

She could hear him crashing through the brush behind her. Before she had a chance to look over her shoulder, he grabbed her around the waist and shoved her to the ground.

Shaun hit hard, the side of her face striking a branch as she landed. She felt a searing pain through her cheek as the branch scraped her. She rolled onto her back and stared up at him. Jozef towered over her, his legs on either side of hers. They stared at each other for a long time, tension laden emotion flowing between them, like lightning strikes.

She felt him, felt his gaze, his gut-wrenching intention. His determination to do what he had to. His despair, his hatred, his desire. He had to kill her, but it was tearing him up inside. Not like when he'd killed Danilo and the man in the basement: stone cold, emotionless. She suspected this was the real Jozef, deep inside, his heart on his sleeve. He didn't want to kill Shaun.

She'd never felt quite the connection with another human being the way she did now. It stunned her. Is that what happened to people before they died? They connected with those around them as they returned to the earth? She'd never believed in anything like that before, she was too logical. But, as she faced her own death, she needed to latch onto something, or someone, so she wouldn't feel so alone. Even if it was the person who was about to end her life.

Jozef reached down and gripped her shoulder, wrenching her to her knees. Pain shot through her arm. She cried out and grabbed her shoulder. He moved his hand away and reached into his leather jacket, pulling out the same gun he'd used to kill Danilo and the other man. Shaun stared at it, sick dread now replacing the almost euphoric feeling she'd experienced seconds earlier. This was it, the moment of her death.

He turned the pistol on her, pressing it to her head. Her eyes drifted shut, but then she changed her mind and opened them. She would look at her murderer as he killed her. If she had to die, then she would gaze upon Jozef. The man who couldn't talk. The man who had a duty to perform. One that came above his humanity.

"Please find a way to tell my mom where my body is. Her name is Fatima Patterson of Montreal, Canada."

Her eyes locked with his and he gave only the slightest nod, indicating he'd heard her. Determination and despair clashed in his beautiful velvet blue eyes. She wondered, as she looked at him, what he saw in her eyes? Fear, hatred, anger? Or acceptance and regret?

His finger tightened on the trigger.