“According to the protocol, we took a blood test to check if the prisoner has any contageous diseases like HIV or hepatitis—”
“I know exactly what a contageous disease is, Corporal Ivanovna,” Agent Fedorka snaps at her. “Don’t you dare lecture me.”
“Apologies. The test proved negative on diseases but positive on pregnancy. Between six and eight weeks.”
The two SBU agents exchange a meaningful look.
“Very well,” Fedorka says. “She is from the New Zone and has even spent several days in the Exclusion Zone. She will be thankful later if we prevent her child from being born. It must be distorted by irradiation already.”
“Yes, but—”
“Why do you keep interrupting me, corporal?
“With all due respect—the protocol says pregnant prisoners must be kept in a special facility. Not here!”
“She’s holding information we must get from her.”
“Tovarishu—”
“On second thought, it’s good news actually,” Fedorka says, putting her finger on her lips. “Threatening her with losing her child might be good leverage. When she has talked, the abortion will be performed anyway.”
“Good idea,” Maksimenko says and gives Fedorka an approving smile.
“It’s your call,” the female guard says with a shrug.
“Yes it is,” Maksimenko snaps at her. “Open her cell.”
“I better go alone,” Agent Fedorka says. “I’ll soften her up.”
The prisoner squatting in one of the corners and hiding her eyes behind her hand to shield them from the strong neon light above looks rather innocent to her. Fedorka even feels a slight envy when she looks at Nooria’s waist-long hair.
“Get up,” she commands but the prisoner doesn’t move. Fedorka grabs her arms and lifts her to her feet. Taking Nooria by her chin, she forces her to raise her head. Fedorka notices the sadness and fright in Nooria’s green eyes. She decides to play cat-and-mouse with her.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” she tells Nooria. The scar on her face don’t impress her much, but being nice is part of her game. She strokes the scar covering Nooria’s right face.
“Poor girl. This must have been sulfuric acid,” she says with mocked compassion. “Who did this to you? Let me guess—the usual story of a refused lover taking revenge? Some bearded old men being upset over you going to school?”
Nooria doesn’t reply.
“Not as if I’d care, you know,” Fedorka continues. “I am not even surprised. You’re barbarians—we should have killed you all but luckily, you took care of that with the nukes yourselves.” She chuckles. “Not without some unfortunate side effects. You know, my dear, ever since Chernobyl we have been dealing with the effects of radiation. Do you know what radiation does to a fetus? A little child in its mother’s belly?”
Nooria’s eyes flicker. Fedorka takes this as a sign of fear.
“Not very nice things. Let me show you.” Fedorka browses through the images on her mobile phone and shows one to Nooria. “Such monsters are better not being born. We are not bad people, my dear. For the sake of both of you, we will not let it be born.”
Nooria stirs. Satisfied with the effects of her words, Fedorka continues.
“Look, you know a lot of things. Some people might hurt your baby but I won’t let this happen if you help me. All you need to do is tell me about a few things.”
“About what?” Nooria asks now.
“About where you live. The men in your Tribe. How many of them are there, how they are armed, what they do, how they get supplied—things like that. Will you help us?”
“Will you harm my child?”
Fedorka leans against the wall, her hands over Nooria’s shoulders. She leans close to her prisoner, as if she wanted to press her against the wall with her own body.
“Silly question,” she whispers. “I am a woman myself, can’t you see? How could I hurt a pregnant woman?”
“I—I don’t know why to trust you.”
“Because I will be very, very sweet to you, and give you a chance to hurt the man who has hunted down your husband.”
“Who is he?”
“First, tell me about Tarasov. Does he love you?” Nooria nods. “Even with that scar? Does he touch it? Kiss it? Does it make him excited? Oh—I see now.”
“Who is the man who was hunting him?”
“You will find out soon enough. See—that’s how sweet I can be, if you’re sweet to me too.”
Fedorka caresses Nooria’s scar and gently kisses it. Then she lets her lips glide over Nooria’s mouth and gives her a long, sensual kiss. Stepping away, she notes the effect with satisfaction—Nooria’s mouth is still open with a mix of surprise, fear and maybe even disgust all over her face.
“You see, my dear?” Fedorka says, wiping her lips with her hand. “I am not here to hurt you.”
“Why did you do this?”
“To prove that I can be kind to you and because I like you. Think about what I said. I will be back soon.”
Fedorka knocks on the cell door. Stepping outside, she shuts it and emits a sigh.
“She will talk. I feel it. Our trick has played off.”
Maksimenko frowns. “Are you sure?”
“I promised her that she can hurt you,” Fedorka says with a low chuckle.
His frown turns scowl. “Are you out of your perverted mind?!”
“Look who’s talking. Let’s take her, she’s sweet and smells surprisingly good.”
“Wait a minute. What in hell did you promise her?”
“Nothing you wouldn’t like. Come on, a threesome is every real man’s dream!”
“You are completely crazy!”
“Getting cold feet, dorogoy? She has more than enough hair to cover that scar and if you don’t see that—the rest of her face is all right.”
“Stop. Answer my question, Verka. You promised her a chance to hurt me?”
“Not more than I do usually. Don’t worry, I will be there too. Once we are done having fun with her, I’ll make her talk. By pointing a kitchen knife to her belly if necessary.”
“I’m not so sure about this, Verka.”
“I am. Let’s go. Or do you want Kruchelnikov to get her intel first? You forgot about that ranch in Montana?”
“But we can’t take her to your place or mine. She’s a high-priority prisoner, for God’s sake! And we can’t disable the CCTVs in the interrogation rooms!”
“Good point. Shit! I got carried away. Where then?”
“Wait—there’s the drivers’ dorm right on the corridor leading to the entry hall.”
“I love your brains, Dima. Let’s go.”
They walk back to the guard’s desk.
“We need to take the prisoner for further interrogation,” Maksimenko tells her in a voice that forbids any argument. “We also need everything she had on her when she was brought in.”
“I’m not sure if I’m allowed to do that, tovarishu Kapitan,” the female corporal stammers. “According to Point 3 of the holding protocol, I must ask for approval—”
Maksimenko darts a quick glance at the celebrity magazine on her desk.
“Point 17 Section 6 of the protocol on the holding facilities of Ukraine also says that guard personnel on duty must stay alert and keep their attention at the holding facility full time,” he replies, giving the guard the look of an officer upset. “Letting your attention be distracted by stupid sudoku riddles goes against that. You can make up for this lack of discipline by displaying unquestioning obedience in following the orders of superior officers as provided for by Article 2 of the Protocol on the internal rules of the SBU—” Maksimenko stops for a moment to catch his breath. “—unless you want to be posted to a prison where you get all kinds of viruses by the inmates merely looking at you. Am I understood?”
The guard opens her mouth to reply but immediately shuts it again.
“Da, Kapitan—as ordered,” is all she can mutter
.
In a few minutes, the two agents lead a handcuffed Nooria from the holding facility.
“You made me moist with that speech,” Fedorka chuckles. Maksimenko gives her one of his self-satisfied smiles and opens the door with his magnetic badge.
It is late night and the building is deserted. Maksimenko knows that even if a guard of the night shift would have nothing better to do than watching the CCTV, two agents leading a prisoner wouldn’t appear suspicious. But probably they do have something else to do, like reading men’s magazines or listening to their MP3 players. At least this is what the Captain hopes for when opening the door, because the drivers’ dorm is an unusual destination for prisoners. To his relief, no busy-body detail manning the main entry gate comes to check them out.
“Yikes! This room smells like old socks,” Vera Fedorka says with a grimace as they step into the small room with three beds and a sink. Captain Maksimenko puts down the bundle holding Nooria’s belongings and locks the door from inside.
“What will you do to me?” Nooria asks anxiously. Fedorka steps to her and caresses her face.
“Treat you well—very well. Don’t worry.”
But seeing that Maksimenko is getting undressed, a look of ultimate horror appears on Nooria’s face. Seeing that she is about to scream, Vera Fedorka swiftly puts a chokehold on Nooria and presses a hand to her mouth.
“If you dare to emit as much as a whimper, you will lose your child. Clear?”
Nooria nods, here eyes wide with fear. Fedorka cautiously removes her hand shutting Nooria’s mouth, and opens the neatly knotted bundle holding Nooria’s clothes and the few things she had on her. Her blade is among them.
“Wow,” Fedorka says pulling it from the scabbard. Holding her cheek, she forces Nooria’s face toward the bed. “Are you scared of his missing eye?” Nooria nods once more. Fedorka puts the point of the blade close to her eye. “Listen, my dear. You will do exactly as you are told or you will end up like him. Clear? Good… Truth be told, I think he looks cool like that. And now get out of those prisoner rags.”
She tosses the blade to Maksimenko who skillfully catches it in the air and puts it beside the bed, far away from Nooria’s reach. Fedorka uncuffs Nooria’s hands.
“Make it sexy,” Maksimenko cheerfully says. He got split naked meanwhile and has made himself comfortable on the bed. Together with Vera Fedorka, they watch Nooria undressing.
“Embarrassingly small tits,” she says staring at Nooria’s half-naked body. “Please raise your hands.”
“Aren’t you getting a little too soft on her?”
“You’re right, Dima. Hey! Let me see if you’re shaven, bitch. Hands up!” Fedorka nods satisfied with what she sees. “Now get out of those pants. Do it!”
“Oh my God,” Maksimenko utters when he sees the scars on Nooria’s lower belly. “Knife cuts?”
“Suits her face well,” Fedorka says with another chuckle.
By now, Nooria is standing naked in front of them, shaking from embarrassment, cold and fear.
“Nice pussy,” Fedorka says studying Nooria’s pubic as if her prisoner were a sex slave on sale. “The last shave has been a few days ago, but that happens sometimes. All right… my turn.”
She starts undressing by removing her dark uniform jacket first, then the black tie.
“You can leave your cap on,” Maksimenko tells her with a grin.
“I don’t have any.”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
“But I am. Watch me prove it.”
Fedorka tosses her skirt right into Maksimenko’s face. He quickly puts it down, eager to see her removing her shoes and stockings. Fedorka gracefully moves her beautiful body dancing to an imaginary rhythm, until she wears nothing but her white bra with a G-string, colors matching. Softly shaking her hips, she walks over to Nooria.
“That’s no tits,” she says, caressing Nooria’s nipples and then touching her own. “That’s tits.”
She walks back to the bed, giving Maksimenko such a seducing stare that only a woman who has wrapping men around her finger written in her job description can.
“I have only one handcuff. Will you behave, Dima?” she purrs shackling Maksimenko’s hand to the radiator behind the bed.
“You bet I will.”
“I need the lubricant first.”
She opens bag and rummages inside, then impatiently empties it on one of the unoccupied beds. Among many things including a make-up kit, spare stockings and panties, a mobile phone and the long nail file, a discreet tube of lubricant falls out. Fedorka pushes a little liquid on her palm and waves to Nooria.
“I’m proud to give you the best cock of Kiev—,” Fedorka lustfully whispers. Maksimenko gives a low moan as he feels her warm palm applying the lubricant on his sex. “—and the man who lured you two here attached to it. First, you will take him. You can do anything to him—anything I let you do, of course. Then we’ll change roles and we will make you feel good like you never felt before!” She closes her hand into a fist and gives Maksimenko an accomplice’s smirk. “Come closer.”
Nooria is standing motionlessly with embarrassment written all over her. She feels utterly humiliated not only for getting naked against her will but also for her body being much less attractive than those of the sadistic couple. His naked beauty might suffer from scars on his torso but apart from that, it is a pleasure for any female eye to look at. Nooria cannot deny herself a shadow of desire. However, the sight of the woman’s perfect body fills her with bitter envy.
Her eyes meet Fedorka’s. They look warm to her, tempting, lewd and full of evil.
“You have beautiful eyes,” Nooria says, stepping closer. With her hands behind her back, she kneels down between the bed occupied by the couple and the other one with the opened bag on it.
“Submissive already? I love that,” whispers Vera Fedorka, caressing Maksimenko’s thigh. “Watch him getting ready for you. I want to watch him fuck your brains out. Then we’ll change position and I will give you the fuck of your life.”
“Why?” Nooria asks with trembling lips.
Vera Fedorka and Maksimenko exchange a glance. She opens her mouth with a burble of laughter. With disgust, Nooria watches a thick drop of saliva falling from her lips. The beautiful woman looks to her now like a drooling bitch.
“Come,” Fedorka commands her. “Look how big he is. He is all yours until my turn comes.”
“I would rather not,” Nooria replies. Behind her back, her hands are frantically searching among the spilled contents of Fedorka’s bag.
“Why so?” Vera Fedorka asks, leaning up on the bed. She smiles at Maksimenko. “Sumasedshaya…”
Having at last found what she was looking for, Nooria takes a deep breath.
“Sorry,” she sighs, “but I don’t like you.”
Vera Fedorka’s brown eyes open wide but even if they were closed, the metal nail file in Nooria’s hand would just as easily punch through her right eye, fracture the soft bone tissue beyond it and pierce into her brain. Surprise still lingers in Vera’s unharmed eye when she falls back to the bed, her hands and legs jerking for a few seconds until her brain ceases to function.
With his mouth open wide enough to scream but emitting only a moan, Captain Maksimenko shakes on the handcuff shackling him to the radiator. A wave of cold runs down his spine when he sees the rage in Nooria’s eyes as she takes her blade. Maksimenko can’t tell what is more frightening—the freezing gaze of Nooria’s green eyes or the curved blade she is unsheathing.
“Go ahead! Cut my head off if you want, you barbarian bitch!”
He knows that his hoarse words sound all but defiantly.
With a quick leap, Nooria lands kneeling on Maksimenko’s chest. For a long moment, she looks him in the eye, holding her blade an inch away from his throat. Maksimenko moans from both fear and excitement as he feels his sex touch that of hers.
“It was your woman wanting to take away my child, not you. Now she has one ey
e, just like you.” With her free hand, Nooria reaches between her legs and grasps him so strongly that Maksimenko’s face distorts from pain. His arm strains against the handcuff.
“My man is bigger,” she breathes into his face. If Vera Fedorka appeared and smelled like a bitch in heat, Nooria looks now like a demon in rage. “This is to remember me.”
Nooria puts her index finger on her lips, then touches the Captain’s mouth as if giving a kiss. Maksimenko hears a silent hiss from the direction of his neck. Burning pain follows a split second later.
Cold fire still burns in Nooria’s eyes when she removes the glowing blade from his neck. Maksimenko wants to shout but realizes at the same moment that if he is found here, with Fedorka dead, he handcuffed to the radiator and a high-profile prisoner about to escape, he would be beyond dead. He closes his eye to avoid Nooria’s soul-piercing gaze.
When he opens it a few moments later, she is gone. So are her belongings.
After ten minutes spent with trying to reach the key that Vera Fedorka has put beside his bed, far from his reach but close enough to get at the price of chafing and bloodying his wrist, he gets off the bed. Vera Fedorka lies on the floor with blood still gushing from her eye. For a moment, he forgets about everything.
“Help!” he screams.
No guard comes. Then he realizes that what he thought to be a scream was just a whimper, muted by the dryness inside his throat and the bleeding cut outside.
———
Outside on busy Volodymyrska Street, no passer-by could tell that the fragile woman walking down is hiding a blade that’s still bloody from killing the two security guards who tried to stop her on her way out of the building, Nooria occasionally stops and looks around. It is not the tall buildings and shiny shop windows she is looking at over but people’s faces. Most don’t even give her as much of a glance and don’t notice that Nooria closes her eyes and deeply concentrates for a second when some of them step her by.
Next to a huge SUV with its engine idling, a brawny man and a well-dressed, blonde woman are fighting. Although a fur parka covers her shoulders, she is underdressed for the chilly night in her mini skirt and thin stockings. She trembles with cold and pain as the man delivers one slap after the other to her face. She grabs the golden chain hanging from the man’s neck, strong as that of an ox, as if that could prevent her from falling on her knees under the impact of the slaps.
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