Diana's Disciples

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Diana's Disciples Page 6

by Eddy Will


  “I like you Maria Koshkova,” Diana finally said and rose from the chair. “Make sure you rectify the situation at your earliest convenience. I want the Storm case closed. Make sure his remains are found in the snow as you have planned. Just missing won’t do at this time. Are we clear?”

  “Yes. You can count on me. Consider it handled,” Koshkova said and also rose.

  But Diana had already turned and was leaving the room.

  “Please follow me,” said the Skipper and headed out to the deck. Koshkova quickly followed, relieved to be leaving the vessel and Diana. If she never met that woman again, it would not be too soon.

  Koshkova walked up the ramp, once again struggling with the heels that did not belong on a boat. When she reached the top, she turned and looked back, but the vessel had already left the dock and was chugging against the waves into the grey rain.

  Koshkova stood alone on the river bank in the drizzling rain. She did not move for a long time but watched the small boat bob up and down until it disappeared around a bend. A shudder ran down her spine and for a brief moment she felt the impulse to burst into tears. But it was only for a brief moment and was quickly replaced by a deep rage. Koshkova did not like being reprimanded or threatened. It never had the desired effect on her. But the brunt of her anger was directed at her helplessness. She was at the mercy of Diana’s whims. Her employer had made that abundantly clear. Koshkova had no option but to cow and obey. This was the price she had to pay in return for the wealth Diana had bestowed on her. It always came at a price.

  Koshkova checked her phone, hoping for a message from Todd Ashley. His ability to deliver and deliver soon just had become infinitely more important.

  Koshkova watched the dark waters of the River Thames flow by and suddenly imagined herself floating face down in the cold water, arms spread out and her body bloated. She shivered and hurried along the embankment to Tower Bridge Underground Station. Public Transport was rarely her first choice, but the prospect of being surrounded by people, any kind of people, suddenly was very appealing.

  Chapter 14

  Carpathian Mountains, Romania, August 2, 2012, 5:21 PM

  A bright cold light pushed through the dense fog in Anna Jaeger’s mind. And somewhere in the distance voices faded in and out, at times a murmur, at other times clearer. Her eyelids felt heavy and when she finally pushed them open with great effort, the light was unbearable. She tried to turn away from the bright glare but her head would not move. The brightness was replaced with a darker blurry shape allowing her eyes to stay open. The shape moved back and forth, closer and then away again. There was the voice again. The shape slipped into focus. It was the face of an older, bearded man, the black of his facial hair having mostly given way to gray. The face was long and thin and the thick beard did little to fill out his hollow cheeks. Watery blue eyes studied her face. The nose was large and sloped to one side.

  “Welcome, Ms. Jaeger,” the bearded face said in accented English. “How are you feeling?”

  “Where am I? What happened?” she mumbled, struggling to command her mouth to move, struggling to speak.

  “Let’s not worry about that right now. Just know that you are in good hands,” the man said.

  Anna’s mind fought to push back the fog that kept swirling around in her mind. Fragments of images, or maybe memories, flashed across her mental screen, disconnected and jagged: frightening images of men grabbing her and pulling on her. There was a scream that terrified her and a large knife flashed across her mind. Anna wanted to scream, jump to her feet and run.

  “There, there,” the man said. “You are safe, no need for panic,” he said, his voice deep and paternal.

  The floating images began to fall into an order like the pieces of a puzzle suspended in air, moving all around, seeking their proper place. Anna stared at the bearded man, her eyes wide in terror.

  “I was attacked on the mountain, there was an avalanche. Jane, what happened to Jane and Tom? Where am I?” Anna said, blurting out the questions.

  “You are in good hands now. Don’t you worry about your friends, they are fine, I am sure,” the man said, his words suddenly less comforting then they had been moments earlier. Anna stared at the man, studying his face, his white coat. She noticed another person in the room: a nurse, maybe; she wore white, she was tall and pretty and held her place near the door. The room looked like a hospital room; but not quite the hospital rooms Anna had seen before.

  “Who are you?” Anna said, her voice gaining strength.

  “Dr. Jasper, and this is Melinda, my, shall we say, assistant. I am going to make sure that you are healthy and fit. Have no worries, Mr. Jaeger. All that matters for now, is that you rest and regain your strength. You have been through a lot,” the doctor said.

  “But, where am I? Am I in Huarez?” Anna said, pieces of her puzzled memory continuing to fall into place.

  “You are in a safe place. It’s important that you rest though.

  “I need to know where I am, Dr. Jasper, and where is my husband? I want to see him, please,” Anna said.

  “All in good time, Ms. Jaeger. Please rest now,” the doctor said, an almost imperceptible edge in his voice. Anna sensed that this man needs to be in control, does not like to be contradicted.

  “Tell me where I am, Doctor, I have a right to know,” Anna said, anger in her voice. She tried to rise but was roughly held back. Anna twisted her head to investigate the obstruction. Thick leather straps held her arms, legs and torso in place. Panic and fury exploded as she struggled against the restraints, fighting to get free.

  “Let me free,” she shouted. “You can’t tie me up. What are you doing?” Her voice spat out the words as she fought the straps. But it was to no avail. The leather restraints would not succumb. The doctor stood by the bed, his hands dug into the pockets of his white coat. He watched her futile struggle without moving. Anna finally slowed and stared at the doctor, her eyes spewing fury and contempt.

  “Who the hell are you? You are not a doctor. Why am I tied down?” she spat.

  “You are wrong, young lady. I am indeed a doctor and the restraints are for your own protection. You are confused and disoriented.”

  “Screw you. Let me free,” Anna said, her voice rising. Yes, she was in a panic and somewhere in her mind, the doctor’s words made sense, but it was her instincts that gave her a different assessment.

  “I am sorry, I can’t do that, Ms. Jaeger, and your actions are proving my point.”

  Anna relaxed, she was breathing heavily as a sense of futility flooded her mind.

  “There, there,” the doctor said. “That’s a lot better. Please try and get some rest. I am going to get you some food, you must be hungry,” he said.

  He was right, Anna felt famished.

  The woman, who Anna thought to be a nurse, spoke, still not moving from the door.

  “Well, doctor, what do you think?” she said.

  “I’d say, she is fine, very spirited, but fine,” he said as the two left the room. Anna heard the door fall shut and the distinct clicking of a lock.

  She was alone. She stared at the ceiling, the cold blue light of the fluorescent fixture burning her eyes. The room was sterile. There was the bed she was laying on, a wheeled table that contained medical equipment, a metal cabinet stood against the back wall. The walls were white and devoid of pictures or windows.

  Fear crept into Anna’s heart. Nothing made sense. Her mind fought to impose order on a confusing situation. She had been attacked on the mountain, she realized as her memory cleared. A man had been waiting for her on the ledge, no, there were two men. One of them had grabbed her and pulled her onto the ledge. There was a struggle and then there was the avalanche. Had these men saved her? Then why did the doctor not explain, not tell her where she was, what had happened to her. And where was Jack? Why was he not here?

  Anna pulled on the restraints, but the straps would not budge.

  She lay still forcing herself to empt
y out her mind from a whirlwind of questions, searching for a calmer state that would help her think. Footsteps approached on the other side of the door.

  At first they were faint, then they grew louder, until the echoes of boots stopped. Four men and two women entered the room. Dr. Jasper was not among them, nor was the nurse that had stood by the door. They wore uniforms, grey pants tucked into heavy boots, a jacket and a black sweater. The two women were pretty and slender, the four men were not: hard, brutish faces and thick necks with greedy eyes, their bodies stocky and broad.

  “What’s going on?” Anna said, her heart pounding, fear blocking her throat. She twisted her head to get a better view of the group. The woman with long black hair pulled into a ponytail nodded at the men. They quickly moved to the bed and unfastened the leather straps holding down Anna.

  “Please get up,” the woman said in accented English. The second woman stood by the door. She was short and pale, her build stocky.

  Anna rose from the bed, slowly, her eyes never leaving the men who had stepped back just enough to give Anna the space to climb off the bed. Anna set her feet to the ground and checked her balance. She felt weak and unsteady. She stood up and locked eyes with the dark-haired woman.

  “Please tell me what is going on and what you want from me,” Anna said, fighting to sound confident and authoritative.

  “Follow me,” the woman said, ignoring Anna’s question.

  “I am not going anywhere, until I get answers,” Anna said. Keep talking, she thought, any information is more than she has now. “Where am I? Who are you? And what do you want from me?” she said quickly. “I want to go home. Now.”

  “Sure you do. Please follow me and everything will be explained to you. You have my word,” the woman said. Anna found no malice in the woman’s voice, but she also found no warmth, nothing to sooth the fear filling her heart.

  Anna did not move. She stared defiantly at the woman in charge.

  The woman sighed and nodded at the men. Two stepped forward and took Anna’s arms. Anna spun around, ripping her arms from the men’s hands. She punched the face of the man on the left and brought her knee into the groin of the other. He doubled over in pain.

  “Don’t you dare touch me,” she growled, her lip curling like an angry wolf.

  The woman in charge raised her hand and stopped the men.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You will follow me, either under you own power of by force. It is entirely up to you. But I recommend you comply,” the woman said calmly.

  Anna stared at the woman, then straightened her sweater and jacket.

  “I’ll walk, but keep your gorillas away from me, or I’ll swear, I’ll hurt them,” she said, shaking from the sudden violent outburst, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

  “Thank you,” the dark-haired woman said and turned to leave. Anna left the room followed by the pale woman and the four men. The dark-haired woman walked at a brisk pace down well-lit hallways and up some stairs. Anna figured she was in a basement. There were no windows and the walls were unfinished concrete. Closed doors led from the hallways. Anna wondered what might be behind those doors. More rooms like the one she had been in? Upstairs everything changed. She found herself in a spacious mansion with high ceilings and wide hallways, the walls cluttered with paintings from all ages and styles sharing a common theme. Every painting depicted a hunting scene. Some realistic, showing hunters in a death struggle with a powerful and angry bear or wild boar, others ethereal, showing ancient gods on the hunt, fighting lions and beasts with their bare hands. The building had a rustic design, large, heavy wood beams holding up the ceiling, heavy tall wooden doors leading to other rooms. The group crossed a large lobby, a massive chandelier made from antlers hung from a tall ceiling, and hulking pieces of hand-made furniture lined the walls. The lobby contained one painting: it was enormous in size and took up most of the wall facing the entrance doors. It was a painting of a female goddess standing in a forest in a flowing dress, a bow in one hand and arrows in the other. Long blond hair flowed in the wind. There was a crudeness about the painting, as if the hand that created the piece lacked the artistic touch. The dark-haired woman passed an expansive curved staircase and entered a room. She stood by the heavy wood door as Anna and the group filed past her. Thick rugs covered the floor, a heavy wood desk cut the room in half and wood paneled walls held more paintings of the same theme. Heavy long curtains had been drawn and Anna was unable to see beyond.

  A large chair with a tall back sat askew behind the desk, as if someone had just left. Against the back wall two doors led from the office and a large imposing fireplace took up the wall across the curtains. Flames danced around thick logs, the smell of burning wood filled the space. Under different circumstances the office might have been considered cozy, but it gave Anna an uneasy feeling. Anna stood in the middle of the room, four men flanking her. A woman entered through a door in the back of the room. She was dressed professionally in a suit jacket and skirt, her graying hair fixed up neatly around an intelligent face and searing black eyes. The woman stood behind the desk and studied Anna for a moment.

  “Welcome Ms. Jaeger,” she said in clipped British English. “I am Patricia. I take it you have been treated well?” she said without expecting an answer.

  “What is going on?” Anna said. “No one is telling me what is going on or why I am here. I want to leave and I want to speak to my husband,” Anna said, hopeful for answers.

  “Ms. Jaeger, forget your husband. I doubt you will ever see him again,” Patricia said, interrupting Anna.

  Anna stared at the woman, unable to speak. Fear gripped her throat again. She swallowed hard. Something was wrong and she sensed she was about to find out.

  “You were brought here for a single purpose, Ms. Jaeger. You will be part of a hunting event that we have organized with great care and you have been chosen specifically. As a matter of fact you had been requested to participate which is rather unusual. The event is called Okhota, which is Russian for hunting, if you care to know, and will begin tomorrow morning. You have about twelve hours to prepare. There will be a ceremony when the hunter will meet you. Are you with me so far?” Patricia said. She had not moved, her eyes never left Anna.

  “No, I am not with you, actually. I don’t hunt, I don’t like hunting, I don’t even know how, so I don’t know how I possibly can participate in your Okhota or whatever it’s called. I want to go home,” Anna said with a steady voice. She was finally getting information and it seemed ridiculous at best, a mistake, nothing made sense.

  “I don’t think you understand, Ms. Jaeger. Your participation is not up for negotiation.”

  “I don’t understand what you want from me,” Anna said.

  “Let me be clear then. You, Ms. Jaeger, are the hunt.” Patricia said.

  “Pardon me? I don’t…” Anna was unable to finish the sentence as the preposterous meaning sunk in. “Is this a joke? Are you mad?” Anna said, her mind racing to comprehend, to find the error in what she was hearing.

  “It’s no joke, Ms. Jaeger. You have been chosen to be the hunt. You will receive instructions at a later time, once you have had time to digest your situation and role in the event.

  “What do you mean, ‘I am the hunt’. What does that mean?” Anna said, raising her voice in desperation, unwilling to assume she understood, unable to comprehend the terrifying enormity of what she was hearing.

  “Ms. Jaeger, you will be the doe, the fox, the wolf. You will be tracked by a hunter who when he gets you in his sights will do his best to kill you with one clean shot. If that fails, he will use a hunting knife to put you out of your misery. You will have a head start, you will get some provisions, a knife and a bow with twenty-one arrows. Your life, as you have known it, is over, and in all likelihood you will never leave the grounds and you will probably be dead within three days. There, that is pretty much as clear as I can make it. Of course, I wish you good luck and good hunting,” Patri
cia said before she left the room.

  Anna stood riveted to the plush rug, the blood had drained from her face and her heart pounded in her throat. This could not be. It had to be a cruel joke or a nightmare from which she would wake at any moment.

  “Ms. Jaeger, please let me show you to your quarters,” said the dark-haired woman who soundlessly had stepped behind Anna.

  Anna spun around. “You are crazy. You are all crazy. I am not going anywhere. This is insane,” she spat. Powerful hands grabbed her. Anna jerked hard, twisting her body to free herself, but this time the men were prepared. Anna screamed and kicked her legs at the men holding her. The remaining two men joined in and more powerful hands gripped her legs. Anna raged, twisting and kicking, fighting to free herself. One man stumbled and loosened his grip and Anna’s knee punched him in the jaw. She arched back and twisted her neck. She buried her teeth into the man’s flesh, hot blood filling her mouth. The man screamed and opened his hand. Anna pulled free. She swung her arm, fingers clawed and ripped at another man’s face, tearing flesh and drawing more blood. The man roared in pain, but his hands did not let go. They hurried Anna from the office, rushed across the lobby and back into the hallway containing the paintings depicting hunting scenes. Anna screamed at the top of her lungs, struggling to get free. She managed to get an arm free here or a leg, but it was never enough to get clear from the four men. There were too many and they were too strong. But Anna had ceased to think. She was reacting, base instincts of fear and survival controlling her every action. And so she kicked and screamed and pulled and bit all the way down the stairs leading to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, she freed a leg, the man was still on a step. Anna pulled the leg to her chest and fired her foot into the man’s face, crushing his nose, cartilage pushing into the man’s brain. The burly man stumbled backwards and fell, his head hitting the concrete steps. The men holding her arms did not wait for their comrade to recover, instead they picked up their pace and dragged the fighting woman along the hallway. The third man still held on to Anna’s leg but was busy dodging fierce kicks from her free leg. The men rushed Anna into a room, past the dark-haired woman who stood by the door, her face mirroring the shock and surprise over the fierce resistance from the captive. The men dropped the screaming woman on the ground and quickly retreated into the hallway. Anna jumped to her feet, her face twisted with rage and charged the door. But the dark-haired woman quickly followed the men into the hallway and pulled the door shut.

 

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