The door opened, and the man in black walked in.
Beck had already decided she was going to kill him. Not for any particular reason, as far as she could tell. Of course, he had kidnapped her, and treated the Captain like dirt. She also disliked his arrogance – even though it did seem to largely be an act that he put on. But mostly, she felt a general hatred towards him. She wasn’t the type to tend towards unnecessary violence, but ever since she had been taken, she had thought only of various and increasingly complex ways of ending the man’s life. It just seemed to her that the world would be better off without him.
He had told her his name, while they walked back to his ship.
Roland.
She pushed the name out of her mind. Keeping him nameless made it easier to hate him.
The man’s boat was a cruel black gunship, bigger than the Raven and adorned with heavy weaponry. She had glanced at the name on the side as they walked towards it – Rapide Heurt. While she could guess at the first word, she didn’t speak French, so she catalogued the name away in her mind for later.
After being taken aboard, she had been pushed into a small storage area and tied to a thick pipe of some kind, with her hands tight behind her back. The floor beneath her was cold metal, smooth and slightly damp. The walls around her began to creak gently once the ship set sail. The heavy air smelt of salt and painted steel.
She had been left there alone for what felt like several hours, though she had no way of knowing for sure. The room was completely dark except for a thin streak of light coming through beneath the door. There was a steady rustle of muffled voices from outside, but she could make out no particular words. The motion of the ship beneath her would have been calming if not for the discomfort of her bonds.
She had sat in the dark for a while with only her racing thoughts, shivering slightly in the draft that was wafting under the door. At some point she had fallen into a broken, dreamless sleep, where each tedious moment seemed to last an age.
The light from the opening door had woken her.
“Do my parents really want me back?” she asked, groggy from sleep, as the man closed the door behind him. He had flicked on a switch, and the room was now filled with a warm yellow light that buzzed and flickered slightly. Her eyes, half-closed, struggled to adjust.
“No.” He took off his peaked black cap and brushed it with his hand absentmindedly, then smoothed the front of his heavy coat. “That was a lie.” He crouched down in front of her, his long hair framing his face. Though his hair was dark grey, and even had the occasional strand of white, he couldn’t have been past his thirties.
“I thought so,” she lied. “And the Captain will know it’s a lie too.” The fear was growing, now. If she wasn’t going back to her parents…
She reminded herself that she had been taken by Americans, so there couldn’t be anything too terrible in store for her.
Could there?
“I think you’re probably right,” the man said with a slight smile. His grey eyes twinkled. “Did you know that him and I go a long way back?”
The question took her by surprise. She knew that he was trying to find a common ground, to get her to let her guard down a bit. She wanted to frustrate his efforts – but she was also intrigued as to how he knew the Captain. If he was even telling the truth, that is.
She shook her head.
“That doesn’t surprise me. It’s not the type of story he would want to tell you.” He coughed awkwardly. “We were friends, actually. Quite a long time ago now.”
“You’re lying,” she spat out, before she could help herself.
The man laughed, and the grey-black stubble on his chin and defined jawline caught the flickering light from overhead for a moment. “You’re very sure of yourself, for someone who knows nothing about it.”
She supposed he had a point, but that just made her even more angry at him.
“Yes, we were friends,” the man said again, his voice shaded with reminiscence. “And we had another friend, too. Until your Captain got him killed.”
“Bullshit!” Beck spat, with even more venom than before. “Now I know you’re lying.”
The man’s smile had long faded. “I wish I was,” he said, and his eyes now held a darkness that gave Beck pause.
Despite her outward surety, she felt unsettled. He seemed to really believe what he was saying. Could he have confused the Captain with someone else? No – the Captain had recognised him, too. They definitely knew each other. Was he just insane, then? Whatever the case, there was no way the Captain would associate with someone like this.
“Why did you take me, then?” she asked, returning to the previous issue. She could worry about his purported history with the Captain later.
“That was the mission,” he replied, as if that explained everything, then looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Why were you on that island?” When she made no reply, he continued. “We’re all on our paths, Beck. And ours have converged for a time. That’s all.”
She didn’t understand any of it. “But why me?” She asked. There was a plaintive edge to her question that hadn’t been intended.
“I don’t know,” he said, with some resignation. “But I really don’t think this is about you, in particular. If that’s any comfort. We’re all caught up in some larger game at the moment.”
She glared at him and then turned away. “So, you don’t know anything. Just like everyone else.”
His hand whipped out, grabbed her jaw, and wrenched her face around to look at him. “You need to appreciate that this isn’t a game, Beck – I don’t think you’re going to enjoy where your path is currently headed. But I’m the closest thing you have to a friend now, and I’m going to need you to trust me.”
She looked at him in shock, startled by his sudden outburst. His fingers were pressing down hard against her skin and sliding against her teeth.
Trust him? That was the last thing she’d do.
She tried to shake her head, but he had her in a vicelock. Infuriatingly, her eyes began to water from the pain.
Just like that, he let her go.
“You have to shake the juvenile dichotomy that’s restricting your capacity for rational thought,” he said calmly. “I have nothing against you, Beck, truly. If I can keep you alive, then that keeps my options open. But if you are going to insist on making that too difficult, then I may just have to cut my losses.”
With that, he stood up and walked out of the room, switching off the light and closing the door behind him.
Beck’s vision became a kaleidoscope of colour for a few moments while her eyes struggled to adapt to the sudden darkness. At the same time, her mind struggled to understand what had just happened.
Just how much of what he had told her was true? How did he and the Captain really know each other? And why had he taken her? Where was he taking her?
A lot of questions raced through her mind, but they were without answer.
Without anything else to do, she thought back over the past few days. Initially, her thoughts turned to Marek, the mysterious new addition to the crew.
She’d had a good talk with him on the way to Obelisk Island… before everything had been upended. That calm night at sea and the delicious baked beans already seemed like memories from a different life.
Speaking of past lives – she wasn’t sure what to make of what Marek had said, about coming from another world. Of course, she knew it had to be untrue. Not a lie, necessarily – he had seemed authentic – but he must have convinced himself of his own inventions, somehow. There just weren’t any other explanations she could accept. But, like she had told him, it didn’t much matter where he came from. It made no difference to her, as long as he was a good person and pulled his weight. On reflection, she didn’t know all too much about Keresi either, or even the Captain’s history, but that hadn’t stopped them from working well together so far. In a way this war was like a fresh start, for everyone.
Even still, the things Marek had said had been most peculiar. She would definitely have to talk to him about it more. If she ever saw him again.
She didn’t want to think about the island. The memories of the strangeness and horrors were always there in her mind, under the surface, but she refused to bring them into focus. She would deal with them another time.
It was obvious now that going to Obelisk had been a huge mistake. They had inadvertently become part of something larger, more sinister. It had all gone so wrong – was Keresi alright? She hoped that Rulio and Marek were safely on their way back to Port Authority with him.
How had the man in black even found them? Had they been set up in some way?
She supposed they must have been. But by who? And why?
Yet more questions without answers.
She tried to think of happier memories, but it was difficult. Always, the vicious dogs and the skinless faces tried to rise up into unwanted clarity.
Again, time stretched out in front of her, distorted and warped by the darkness and her thoughts.
Eventually, she fell into another fitful sleep, and her world became a realm of fog where time stood still.
It must have been morning when the man in black visited again, although she still had no sense of time.
He brought a tin mug full water, and while her mind wanted to refuse the offering just to spite him, her thirst won out. He lifted the mug to her lips, and she took a few careful sips. Almost immediately, her head felt clearer.
“Do you want anything to eat?” he asked.
She shook her head. Although she was starving, her stomach was too knotted up to deal with any food.
The man nodded his acknowledgment, then got up to leave.
Her curiousity got the better of her. “What happened? With the other friend?” she blurted out.
Stolen story; please report.
The man stopped mid-way to the door and turned to look at her. “Why would I tell you that? Are we friends now?” The corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been the beginnings of a smile.
“No,” she said, sheepishly. “It’s just that before, you mentioned…”
The man smiled, though his eyes remained serious. “That was only so you’d begin to understand that your idealisation of Rulio is misplaced. That’s all.”
“Oh.” She was disappointed he wasn’t going to reveal anything more. “Well, then who gave you the mission to take me?”
“A man called Don Diamond,” he said immediately.
She wondered at the indistinct line between the information he was willing to give and offered freely, and those other things that he refused to talk about.
“And what does he want with me?” she asked.
The man shook his head. “He’s just a middleman. An intermediary.” He gazed off into space. “That much I know. But as to who his masters are, I can’t say.”
Beck frowned. “There’s a lot of that, these days.”
The man looked at her, confused. “A lot of what?”
“A lot of can’t say-ing. And not knowing.”
He snickered. “Ah – yes.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled at her. “So, it’s not just me then?”
“No.” She hadn’t let herself see how handsome he was before.
Roland clapped his hands softly. “Well, that’s something. I’ll sleep better knowing everyone else is also in the dark.”
She ignored his comment. “Where are you taking me?”
“To my base of operations. We should arrive sometime in the late afternoon.” There was a warmth in his eyes. “I’ll come and get you when we’re almost there.”
“Alright,” she said. “Can you loosen my bonds?”
Roland nodded. “A little bit – but don’t try anything.” His warmth had ebbed somewhat, replaced by an earnest austerity.
He reached behind her, and his face drew very close to hers as he loosened the ropes around her hands. Immediately, she felt more comfortable.
As he leant back, he nodded to her, and she saw the warmth had returned to his eyes. He stood up, and walked back out of the room. He paused near the doorway. “Light on or off?” he asked.
“Off.”
The switch clicked, the door closed, and the room fell into darkness again.
She stared at the door for a while, running over the conversation they’d just had.
Perplexingly, her hate towards him – which had once seemed a burning fire – now felt slightly tempered. He just didn’t quite seem like a monster. She was annoyed by that. Even when he had grabbed her face earlier, he had been giving her advice…
No.
He had taken her – kidnapped her – and that was more than enough to tell her all she needed to know about him.
She couldn’t let her hate die. Soon, it might be the only thing she had left. She tried to rekindle her anger, but it was more difficult than before. Mostly, she just felt tired.
The boat swayed persistently beneath her, and her eyes closed within the gentle reverie.
She awoke with a start. When had she fallen asleep?
The door rattled again, and a moment later opened to reveal Roland, dressed in his usual black uniform. Even with the door open, it was impossible to tell what time it was, or even if it was day or night. The corridor behind Roland was lit only by sickly yellow electronic lights, identical to the one in her room.
Without saying a word, Roland walked to her, undid her bonds, and then motioned for her to follow him.
She stared at him.
“Come on, take a look.” He sounded impatient, and was waving his hand insistently. “We’re almost there.”
“I’m free now?” she asked sceptically. Her eyes twitched at the faint prospect of escape.
Roland laughed and patted the revolvers holstered at his waist. “If you want to think of it like that, then certainly. But I don’t think you’re going to try anything.” His face grew stern. “If you do, though, you’ll be tied up again in no time.” There was no malice in his voice, just a stating of facts.
She sighed to herself. It would, of course, be senseless to try and make an escape now. Roland would be on high alert, and she also knew that there were at least two other men with him. As much as it pained her to admit it, Roland did seem to have some kind of humanity – but the other two men had seemed cold and deadened in a way that was unnerving. She had a strong feeling they would relish being given any reason to kill her.
“Well, where are we almost at, then?” she asked.
Roland waved his hand again. “Just come on! You’ll see.” He was nearly boyish in his excitement.
Gingerly, she began to walk, following Roland’s lead. She was on edge. A part of her feared that this was some kind of trap, or test. But nothing happened.
The corridor beyond the door ran past the cabin’s main room. She glanced inside the room as she passed, and was met with the lifeless expressions of the two men who had accompanied Roland on the island. They looked at her with their listless, dark eyes, and she felt them peering into her in a way she couldn’t articulate. At the sight of their soft smiles her skin broke out in a cold sweat.
She turned back to the corridor, her head feeling slightly dizzy.
A doorway at the end of the corridor opened out onto the deck, and Roland led her along the cabin’s exterior and up to the prow of the ship. As he had predicted, it was indeed late in the afternoon, though the sun was still quite high in the cloudless sky.
It was immediately obvious what Roland had brought her to see.
Across the turquoise sea in front of them rose a wide cliff, so sheer it was as though a colossal knife had cut the entire front from it. The rock was white and light brown, a sedimentary construction of countless layers. The top of the cliff was lush with vegetation, and a thin silver waterfall was pouring down over it, at such a height that the stream became a vaporous cloud before it could hit the ocean’s surface. To the side of the waterfall’s base was a narrow entrance in the rock face, and Beck could just make out the beginnings of a small cove lying in the shadows beyond.
She looked on in awe, her fascination at the sight superseding her general wariness.
“Where are we?” Beck asked.
Roland smiled. “This is Heart’s Reach.”
She was annoyed at how impressed she was. “But where are we?” she insisted. She’d never seen a place like this before.
“Somewhere in the Santa Cruz Islands.” Roland’s shrewd smile was persistent. “That’s all you need to know.” He must know now that he had gotten through to her, in some small way, and seen past the front she had put up ever since he’d taken her.
She was irritated by how he was behaving towards her. Most of the time, he seemed almost… agreeable.
Don’t be stupid, she admonished herself again. She was only here to see this because he had kidnapped her in the first place – and she mustn’t forget that, despite how he was acting now.
Still, a part of her was very thankful that he wasn’t treating her badly.
What had seemed a small entrance from afar grew to dwarf the ship as they drew closer. When they passed through, there was perhaps twenty metres of space to either side of the boat, and the highest point loomed fifty or sixty metres overhead. Beyond the opening in the cliff lay the small cove, shrouded from the daylight within the fastness of the surrounding rock.
The Rapide Heurt slipped over the calm water, moving further into the cove, and then Roland and the other two men secured it to a rudimentary wooden pier that led down onto a beach of soft, fine white sand. A series of structures had been set up about fifty metres inland, festooned with electric lights that bathed the surrounding area in a warm glow.
At the end of the pier, a man was waiting for them.
They disembarked and walked to meet him. Roland led the way, trailed by his two henchmen. Beck followed behind, escorted by a woman. She looked Japanese, and hadn’t said a word yet.
“It’s damn good to see you back.” The man said as they approached. She assumed this must be Don Diamond. He looked completely out of place, dressed in a tailored blue suit. His hair was mostly black, but starting to turn a sophisticated grey in places. Beck thought he must be in his late forties or early fifties. He laughed. “I’ve heard it’s not too fun out there in the fog at the moment.” He spoke in a rich, resonant drawl.
Roland ignored the comment. “The girl, as promised.”
“Very good, Mr Graves, very good.” Don’s tone sounded almost mocking as he glanced at Beck. “I see that you’re a man of some skill after all. You’ve done a fantastic job.”
Roland glared at him.
“How did you go out there?” Don asked.
“There wasn’t too much trouble.” Roland seemed unwilling to talk. It sounded like he was forcing out every word.
“And how’d Rulio take it?”
At that, Roland’s expression flickered into something more cheerful. “Not well.”
Don laughed. It was a hoarse and grating noise. “No, and he wouldn’t!” He regained his composure. “No, he wouldn’t.”
Roland smiled, though it seemed more to himself than from any shared moment with Don. “What’s next?” he asked.
Don flicked out a cigarette from a pack inside his suit jacket, flipped open a gunmetal lighter, and lit it up. He inhaled a deep lungful of smoke and blew it back out in a measured stream. “A representative of my benefactor will be along shortly to pick her up.”
“When?”
“Shortly.”
“A day? A week?”
“Patience, Roland.” Don looked mildly annoyed. “It’ll sort itself out. The hard part is done, now.”
Beck saw Roland roll his eyes. Obviously, him and Don weren’t friends, but perhaps acquaintances of need instead.
“And payment?” Roland asked.
“As we discussed,” Don said, as if talking to a child, “It will arrive along with the representative.”
Roland muttered something under his breath, then motioned towards Beck. “And what’s going to happen to her?” he asked.
Don’s face grew sly. “Ah – got a soft spot for her, have we?” He turned his attention to regard Beck. His eyes crawled over her body, and then he laughed. “I can see why. Don’t worry, Graves,” he said, turning back to Roland, “she’ll be well looked after where she’s going.”
His demeanour led Beck to believe the exact opposite would be true.
“I hope so,” Roland replied, his gaze narrowing. “Otherwise, I might have to take her back.”
Don shook his head. “Now, now. Don’t fuck with me, Graves.” He was smiling, but his eyes threatened a latent violence. “We’re partners now, right?”
Roland looked at him, his expression pained. “Yes.”
“That’s right,” Don said, still smiling. He wagged his finger towards Roland. “It’s important you understand that. And it’s important you understand the dynamics of that.” He dropped his hand. “Now, I don’t want any more attitude.”
Roland stared at him. He said nothing, but Beck could see the thunder in his eyes. Don either didn’t see it, or chose to ignore it.
It was during this lull in the conversation that she noticed someone else standing off to the side, hugging the shadows of one of the buildings. He looked like a young man, of a similar age to her. She wondered why he wasn’t a part of the discussion.
Don clapped his hand together suddenly. “You know what? I’m feeling generous today.” He reached into a pocket, took out a small piece of paper, and gave it to Roland. “Here’s your completion slip. Take that on back to Port Authority and you’ll get your EP and payment.”
Roland looked disconcerted by this, but said “Thanks.”
Don smiled. “I’ll tell you another thing, Graves. Because I’m in a very good mood today. You’ve done a great job, a really great job.” He took another drag from his cigarette. “You were wondering as to who all this work was for. Well, let me just say that Mr Sterling is going to be a very happy man indeed when I let him know how your mission went.” Don’s smile spread into a sly, unpleasant grin.
Roland was looking perturbed. “Mr Sterling?” He squinted slightly. “You don’t mean Robert Sterling?”
“Ha! Yes, the very same.”
Beck had heard that name somewhere before, she thought, but couldn’t place it now.
Roland looked like he had seen a ghost. “What – why does he want the girl?”
Don shook his head. “Ah, well that’s still a secret, I’m afraid.”
“More secrets,” Roland said, with obvious contempt.
Don’s laugh was a booming, humourless noise. “Yes, more secrets! Secrets upon secrets – that’s the only thing keeping this house of cards in the air.” He sucked in a lungful of smoke, looking quite pleased with himself.
The remainder of the conversation between Roland and Don maintained its awkward, standoffish tone, and the rest of the crew continued to watch on in abject silence. As to the young man standing in the shadows, there was no mention or acknowledgement.
It wasn’t too long before Roland finished talking with Don, and finally turned to deal with her. He took her arm, not ungently, and led her in front of him.
“You’ll be kept in a locked room,” he told her as they walked, “And as you may have heard, I’m not certain on any timeframes.”
She didn’t reply.
Heart’s Reach was small, and they soon arrived at a little building, which was really no larger than a room.
Roland nudged her inside. The windowless area seemed like it was used for storage, though it was now mostly empty except for a bunk against the wall, with a thin blanket and no pillow. There were also some wooden crates in one corner, but they looked unfilled. The only light source came from a single dim bulb, fixed to the centre of the ceiling.
“I’ll bring you some food and water shortly,” Roland said. His expression was enigmatic as he turned to leave.
She was so confused by him – he showed an apparent care at times, but it was consistently undermined by his other actions towards her.
He closed the door, and she heard it lock. Still, it was obvious that he wasn’t too concerned about her escaping. While she could probably break out relatively easy if she tried, it would be tantamount to suicide. Even were she to evade Roland and his crew, and manage to take the Rapide Heurt somehow, she would then need to contest with the open ocean alone. Trying to sail the large boat by herself would be effectively impossible. Furthermore, she would have no idea where to go – and she had no idea how close to the Japanese or US lines of control she was, or in which direction each of them lay. She didn’t know what fate awaited her if she stayed here, but that unknown still seemed better than a probable death drifting around the Pacific.
She lay down on the bunk. The thin mattress barely masked the wooden slats that were trying to prod themselves into her back.
It could be worse, she supposed – although it might yet go that way.
She tried to remain optimistic, but it proved trickier than she would have liked. Dark thoughts raced around her head, and anxious uncertainties dominated the future.
She wished that James was here. What would her brother say? He would probably tell her that she was stupid for even getting herself into this mess.
What was she thinking, running around the Pacific, acting tough?
Roland was right, this wasn’t a game.
She wished she could see James again. Even if they were both locked up here together, that would be fine. Just to see his face and hear his voice would be more than enough. She tried to work out how long it had been since she had seen him, but she couldn’t quite remember. She struggled to recall his face.
She wanted to see her brother.
She wanted to be back with the Captain, and hear Keresi laughing again, and talk to Marek some more. Was Muno doing alright without her?
None of her friends knew where she was.
She didn’t even know where she was.
Don Diamond’s leering face rushed into her mind.
That was when the magnitude of her isolation hit, and there was nothing she could do to stop the silent tears from flowing down her face in the darkness.