“Hey, Mike,” he yelled to his crew chief. “Make sure you get this one off here quick. It’s gonna stink the bird to high heavens!”
19
When Lisa regained consciousness, she struggled to orient herself. Her legs and arms were numb, but every joint in her body ached with tension. She was trapped in the box again and strained each second to keep control over the panic threatening to overwhelm her. She wanted to thrash about and flail against the wood keeping her constricted but knew it was futile.
She was on the edge of losing her mind inside the small space when she heard the latches release and felt the pressure on her back abate. She wanted to cry with relief when two pairs of rough hands grabbed her shoulders and lifted her from the box.
They carried her across the floor and set her on a steel chair. As the blood began flowing once more to her limbs, millions of pins pricked every inch of her body, but she welcomed the pain. It was a feeling of confirmation that she was finally free from the container’s claustrophobic confines.
She squirmed on the cold chair before a pair of hands grabbed her arms and pulled them roughly behind her back and tied them to the chair, straining her already tender shoulders. She breathed stale air through the burlap hood and flinched at each soundless shadow.
When they finished tying her arms behind her, more hands grabbed her thighs and spread them apart. She sobbed, utterly helpless and unable to stop them from doing whatever they wanted. She rolled her head from side to side and silently begged for the torture to end.
After each of her legs was tied to the chair, the hands vanished. She fought to stifle her cries and took sharp and erratic breaths as she waited for them to soak her. She tightened her core and braced herself for another punch or a kick. With each passing second, she felt closer to insanity.
Then, the hood was ripped off.
The man in the suit stood in front of her with his arms folded across his chest. “Who do you work for?”
Her eyes rolled with confusion, and her lips trembled as she answered him, “I… I don’t know.”
What do I say?
The part of her brain that wanted the pain to stop pleaded with her. The truth, it urged.
She shook her head, and he stepped closer to her. “Who do you work for?”
The other part of her brain silenced her weakness. Anything but the truth.
She looked at him with genuine fear in her eyes. “Please,” she said. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
She broke down again and dropped her chin to her chest with a faint whimper. But he tilted it upward with delicate fingers and stared into her eyes, and she gasped at the kindness he exuded. Lisa blinked away her tears, and he nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, then let go of her chin.
He walked to the heavy steel door and rapped on it with his fist. The door opened, and he stepped aside as a guard dragged another prisoner into the room. The man’s head hung low, and he held a bandaged hand close to his chest. Her breath caught when he lifted his head.
Shen Yu.
The man in the suit addressed the scientist. “Who did you give state secrets to?”
Shen Yu looked up and stared at Lisa, saying more with his eyes than he could with words. He apologized for what had been done to her. He apologized for failing her and for asking her to come to Shanghai. And he apologized for doing what they were forcing him to.
“To her,” he said, nervously working his bandaged hand.
The man in the suit continued. “And who does she work for?”
Shen Yu’s eyes filled with tears, not wanting to forsake the woman he considered a friend. Lisa cried at seeing his turmoil and nodded to him, letting him know it was okay to betray her. She wanted to survive and return home, but she would never forgive herself if she did so at the expense of somebody who had trusted her. She would accept the blame if it meant Shen Yu could live to see his wife and daughter once more.
He shook his head, refusing to accept the gift she had offered him. His honor would not allow him to sacrifice her, even if it meant he would never see his family again.
“Shen Yu,” Lisa said, pleading with him to answer the question.
“Who does she work for?” the man in the suit repeated.
Shen Yu shook his head and hardened his jaw, and she saw that he had made up his mind and that nothing she could say or do would make him renounce her. With tears streaming down her cheeks, Lisa looked away.
“I work for the CIA!” she screamed.
The man in the suit looked at her and smiled. “Thank you, shagua,” he said. “I have found you guilty of espionage and hereby sentence you to death.” He reached inside his coat, pulled out a pistol, and shot Shen Yu in the head.
The guard released his grip on Shen Yu’s body, and it collapsed in a heap on the ground in front of her. Without another word, the man in the suit left the room, followed by the guards, who stepped around the growing pool of blood under Shen Yu’s body.
The door closed, and she was plunged once more into darkness, accompanied only by the scent of gunpowder and death hanging in the air amid the scurrying of rats.
20
Jenn’s eyes shot open, and she focused on the beam of light stretching across the ceiling, then turned her head slowly to see where the offending light was coming from. She had used a hanger to clip the drapes together, but the pesky light found its way into her room anyway. It was just one of the many hazards of being a flight attendant.
Groaning, she rolled onto her right side and tried closing her eyes to block out the light that prevented her from getting a full eight hours of sleep. Not that she needed a full eight hours, but her stomach had been bothering her and she was hoping to sleep it off.
Three minutes into staring at the insides of her eyelids, she finally gave up and opened her eyes again. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well enjoy a cup of coffee on the balcony and take in the beauty of Waikiki Beach that her friends assumed she enjoyed on every overnight thanks to her Instagram feed.
She tossed back the covers and stretched her lithe frame, enjoying the way her naked body felt on the cool sheets. The air conditioner sensed her movement and kicked on, and she shivered and rolled away to look at her phone plugged into the nightstand.
There was no little red bubble over the Messages app on her phone showing that she had a waiting text message, so she opened her email application, hoping to find an email waiting from Andy. If there wasn’t, she could always go back and read an older one, finding comfort in the loving words he never failed to use.
Not yet, at least.
Her inbox was devoid of new messages, so she scrolled to the last one he had sent and started reading while imagining him sitting at his apartment in Iwakuni or in front of a computer on the aircraft carrier. His words never failed to make her smile or feel loved, and she was lucky she had thrown all propriety out the window and flirted with him almost a year earlier.
While she was on duty, no less.
With a mischievous grin at the memory, Jenn set her phone down and sat up, swinging her legs off the bed to feel the soft carpet under her sore feet. The heels she wore walking up and down the aisle on the plane were designed for fashion and not comfort. And though a few of the seasoned flight attendants wore more sensible shoes, or at least had the good sense to change into ones that were little more than slippers once airborne, she wore her tall heels with pride. And she paid for it.