‘Last chance, Miss Ellis,’ said Sergei.
‘You have to believe me,’ she pleaded. ‘I would tell you if I knew, but I really, really have no idea, he didn’t ever tell me—’
The hand covered her mouth again and she struggled in desperation, but whoever was holding her had an iron grip.
‘Very well, bring him,’ said Sergei.
Sophie watched in horror as two of the Russians picked up Josh and carried him to the edge of the pool. At a signal from Sergei, they plunged his head and shoulders under the water. He kicked his legs, thrashing his head from side to side, but his arms were pinned behind him.
She was screaming hysterically.
‘Josh! Josh! Please stop, I’ll do whatever you want, please!’
Sergei raised a hand and Josh was pulled out, coughing and retching.
‘Speak to me, Miss Ellis,’ he said.
She felt weak and delirious.
‘Maybe it’s at my parents’ house,’ she sobbed. ‘He had an office but that was cleared out when he retired. Everything was brought back home.’
The Russian pushed his face close to hers. ‘Do you take me for a simpleton?’ he hissed. ‘Do you wish to insult me? Of course we searched there, you stupid little girl. There was nothing.’
His blue eyes held hers as he said, ‘Again.’
Josh was pushed back into the pool. He fought harder this time, churning the blue water into a white froth, but gradually his movements became slower, less urgent.
‘You’re killing him!’ yelled Sophie. ‘Let him up!’
‘Tell me what I want to know,’ said Sergei.
‘I can’t,’ she said, tears streaming down her face. ‘I wish I could, but I can’t. We’ve told you everything we know. You have to believe me.’
Sergei gazed at her for a moment longer, then gave the slightest shake of his head.
‘Get rid of them,’ he said.
Suddenly it went dark. For a moment Sophie was disorientated, then she felt the material on her face and realised a bag had been put over her head. Her arms were forced behind her back and her wrists bound with thin rope.
‘Please, don’t!’ she cried.
Then she heard a voice very close to her ear, deep and accented.
‘Speak or struggle again, I will cut your throat. Nod if you understand.’
She nodded.
Helpless and terrified, Sophie was roughly lifted, half carried, half marched, along a path. She had no idea where Josh was, or whether he was being taken to a similar fate. Frozen with terror, her mind sought out a happier, calmer place and she found herself thinking of her father, the last time he had taken her out on Iona, just before he died. Although it had been a sad time for her dad, Sophie had loved that day out on the river, just the two of them, laughing and talking. Even then, Peter had still been full of his plans to get away, dreaming of that castle on a desert island just like he always had. I hope you’re there now, Daddy, she thought, her tears soaking into the rough fabric covering her face.
Suddenly there was a thunk and a sliding noise, then Sophie felt herself lifted and pushed down as an engine kicked into life. Of course, she was in the back of a van: she could smell the oil and feel the vibrations through the floor.
‘Hello?’ she said tentatively, remembering the threat about speaking. ‘Is anyone—’ She cried out as something heavy was thrown on top of her. It rolled and slithered to one side, then she heard a gasp and a cough: Josh! Her heart leapt – he was alive! She felt a small sliver of hope as she heard the van doors slam and the vehicle began to move. Perhaps they were being taken somewhere else for questioning. Don’t be so bloody stupid, she scolded herself. They were taking them somewhere else, yes. But for disposal, not questioning. Sergei wasn’t so stupid that he’d kill someone on his own property, but then he wouldn’t want them running to the police screaming about torture either. If it were me, I’d dump us in the sea, her mind thought crazily. But another, more steady voice also spoke in her head. Fight back, Sophie, it said. Don’t let them win.
‘Josh,’ she whispered. ‘Josh, can you hear me?’
She was rewarded with a spate of coughing and she moved towards the sound.
‘Where are you?’ she said desperately.
‘Where do you’ – cough, cough – ‘think I am?’
She shook the bag off her head. In the dim light of the van, she could see Josh lying curled on his side, shivering uncontrollably. He was wet and cold and probably in shock. A black bag was over his head and his hands were tied in front of him.
She crawled over, gripped the bag between her teeth and pulled it over his hair.
‘Finally,’ coughed Josh.
Sophie smiled in the dark, despite herself.
‘What do you think they’re going to do with us?’ she asked.
Josh stiffened as another wave of coughing seized him.
‘I dunno,’ he said at length. ‘But I doubt they’re taking us to the movies.’
They lay there on the floor, listening to the engine. They weren’t making many turns: were they on the highway? Heading out of town? Sophie couldn’t even tell if they had been driving for five minutes or twenty. All she could do was lie there watching yellow lights from the crack in the door sweep across the roof of the van.
A single tear rolled down her cheek and Josh shuffled up closer to her.
‘Don’t cry,’ he said softly. ‘We’ll get through this.’
‘It’s slowing,’ she said, her body tensing again. ‘We’re turning off the road. What are they doing?’
Suddenly the rear doors opened and Sophie was grabbed by the arm by one of Sergei’s men and yanked out of the van. She was sent sprawling on to a dirt road, scraping her knees and the palms of her hands, still bound with rope. There was another thud and a groan as Josh landed next to her.
Her stomach clenched with fear. This is it, she thought, feeling faint with terror. They were going to kill them. She looked at Josh and knew she just wanted to be held by him, to die with him. The Russian towered over them. She closed her eyes, her heart hammering, a faint groan escaping from her lips. Then she heard footsteps walking away from them, and the slam of a door. She opened her eyes and saw the van skid off, its wheels sending a shower of gravel into her eyes.
‘Josh!’ she yelled, scrambling to her feet and blinking in the setting sunlight as she watched the tail lights of the van disappear towards the horizon. Relief almost knocked her to the ground again.
She wriggled her wrists around. The binding had not been put on tightly and she managed to get one hand free, then the other. She ran over to Josh and unfastened the rope around his wrists.
He took her in his arms and she started weeping.
Josh held her like that for a long time as she cried, stroking her hair, murmuring softly, ‘It’s okay, we’re safe, we’re safe now.’
Right then, she only cared that she was alive and in Josh’s arms.
Finally she pulled away from him and looked around. They were in swampland, possibly not too far away from the sea, as she could still smell the salt in the air and gulls circled overhead.
Up ahead, they could see the yellow street lights of what looked like a main road. Josh stumbled and groaned, holding his side, and Sophie put her arm around him, supporting him.
‘So what now?’ she said.
Josh nodded towards the road. ‘We should get back to Miami,’ he said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t want to be around here when it gets dark. It would be pretty lame if we survived Sergei and then got mauled by the gators.’