“Thank you,” Chris said, but the man was already gone.
He’d been hanging out in the lounge for about an hour when Kisa arrived and sat down next to him. She had a new glow about her as if she’d freshened up. She was attractive, enjoyable to be with, and her companionship helped him blend in with the other passengers, but she might figure out he was a stowaway. It also occurred to Chris that she might work for Russia’s FSB, hunting for a prospective spouse, so she could obtain citizenship in a country like Great Britain or the USA — or Canada.
She seemed to notice the mass of drinking glasses beside him, and her eyes grew wide.
Chris shrugged.
She glanced at the ship’s itinerary in his hands. “Anything interesting?”
He needed to check the restricted areas for where Xander might be hiding. “I was just looking at the schedule and thinking that after dinner I’d like to go on the ship’s tour.”
“I was thinking about doing that, too,” she said.
“Great.”
“After that there’s a movie playing later tonight in the conference room up on the sun deck,” she said. “Brat.”
Chris knew Brat was Russian for brother, but he hadn’t seen the movie. “What’s it about?”
“It takes place right after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, and a young soldier loses his job in the Army so he travels to Saint Petersburg and joins the mafia. The movie received an award nomination at the Cannes Film Festival.”
Chris smiled. “I’d like to see that.” He really did want to see it.
“Would you like to go to my room for a drink?” she asked.
Maybe she was just inviting him to her room for a drink, or maybe this was a booty call, but Chris was a pastor and single pastors didn’t do booty calls. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Maybe later,” she said.
Chris smiled kindly without committing, but he still didn’t really have a place to sleep without sticking out as a stowaway. Maybe I can sleep on the deck in Kisa’s cabin.
They hung out in the lounge some more before going for a walk around the ship. Still no Xander, but they came upon a small buffet with leftovers from dinner. Chris filled a plate with beef stroganoff and a bublik, a Russian bagel with a large hole in it. “Are you hungry?” he asked Kisa.
“I had enough at dinner, thanks.” Instead, she took one of the teacups sitting next to an ornate silver-and-enamel Russian samovar shaped like an urn. From the top of the samovar, she lifted a teapot and poured a small amount of concentrated tea—zavarka being the most common — heated from the steaming water at the bottom of the samovar, into her cup. Then she used the spigot at the bottom of the samovar to pour in hot water, diluting the tea to her taste. She sat down with Chris at a small table.
Sautéed beef in a sauce of Smetana, a heavy sour cream, assaulted Chris’s taste buds. He tried not to make a pig of himself as he filled his empty stomach, but afterward, his body felt tired and his mind slow. He needed to rest, if only for a moment. He wished Xander was already captured and he was on a cruise with Hannah, but wishing didn’t make it so.
In spite of Chris’s fatigue, he and Kisa met with the other passengers in the reception area and the tour began. Their guide showed them the bridge, engine room, and other parts of the ship, and Chris closely inspected each area for Xander, but there was no sign of him.
As the tour ended, Chris spotted him. He was walking out of the cabin nearest the sauna and going up the stairs. It jolted Chris to such an extent it felt like his heart had stopped.
The bright sunshine had retreated, and dark clouds rolled in, rumbling with thunder. “Looks like a storm is coming,” Kisa said.
“Could I meet up with you later at the movie?” Chris asked.
“Huh?” she said.
Xander was getting away, and Chris tried to appear nonplussed as he walked in the direction of Xander’s cabin. “Could I meet you later?”
“Is something wrong?”
Everything was wrong, and it was about to get worse. “Everything is fine.” He tried to smile but couldn’t.
“Your eyes, they look different, like something is wrong.”
He wanted to break into a sprint, but there were others in the passageway and he didn’t want to draw their attention.
Kisa looked at the deck as they walked. “Mama says I try too hard sometimes.”
Oh hell. He felt sorry for her, but he didn’t have time for confessionals, and if that’s what Kisa was doing, he wished she’d hurry up.
She said, “If you don’t want me around, I understand.”
He stopped in front of Xander’s cabin. If he could get inside, he could wait there to ambush him. “I’ll catch up to you in a little bit.”
She smiled awkwardly, as if she wanted to believe him but couldn’t. “Okay. I’ll see you at the movie.”
Chris attempted to smile again, but he didn’t believe in it, and he knew she could see through him. Even so, he said, “See you there.”
There was less bounce in her gait as she left him, disappearing up the stairs.
He frowned, guilt creeping in at hurting her, but Xander could return at any moment. He glanced down the hall. No one was looking in his direction, so he tried the doorknob but it was locked. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the clip he’d broken off the pen he took in Azerbaijan. He inserted the shim into the lock and attempted to pick it, but his tool was too simple and the lock too complex. He cursed himself for wasting time on what he should’ve known was futile.
He checked the hall again. There was a group of people there, but they were focused on talking to one another. Chris kicked the door, hard, near the doorknob, popping the door wide open. The group in the hall turned to see what the noise was as Chris slipped inside, closed the door, and locked it. He gave a tug to make sure the door would stay locked, but it opened freely. Upon examining it, the lock strike in the frame was knocked crooked, as was the lock set in the door. He straightened them before closing the door and trying to lock it again. This time, the lock held.
He took a brief examination of the compartment, and in the bathtub he found a man’s body, dried streams of blood exiting his nose and ears. Chris felt for a pulse. Dead.
Chris shook his head, and it struck him that the average person would feel horror at such a sight, but his eyes had been forced to see so much worse, each time tearing another piece from the fabric of his spirit. Such experiences were what helped motivate him to get out of the military in the first place, before his spirit was stripped completely. The adrenaline and the brotherhood could no longer bind him to the job — until Hannah had pulled him back in. Now his venom for evil men was full again. He had a mission to finish, and there was no turning back.
He figured he could wait in the bathroom until Xander entered the cabin. Once he was inside, Chris could knock him unconscious and tie him up, but there was no rope in the room. Chris opened a dresser drawer and found the dead man’s T-shirts. Those would work. Expecting each room to have lifejackets for its passengers, Chris was able to locate two in the compartment. He could use them for both Xander and himself. At night, when they neared a port, he could jump ship with his prisoner and swim them to the nearest boat and sail back to Azerbaijan. But it was risky. The water would be cold, and they wouldn’t be able to survive for too terribly long.