Chapter 15-2
317 Words
Despite my determination, my legs feel like gelatin as Igor leads me down an unfamiliar hallway. We’re moving away from the interrogation room, which means the guard wasn’t lying.
Something different is happening today.
“This way,” Igor says, tugging me toward a set of double doors. As we approach, they swing open for us, and I blink at the sudden flood of blinding light.
Sunlight.
It’s warm and pure on my skin, so unlike the cold fluorescence of the prison lights. The air wafting in through those doors is different too. It’s fresher, full of scents that speak of city in the spring and have nothing to do with desperation and human suffering.
“Here she is,” Igor says, pushing me through the doors, and to my shock, a woman’s voice repeats his words in Russian-accented English.
Squinting against the overwhelming brightness, I turn my head to see a short middle-aged woman standing next to five men in a narrow courtyard. Beyond them is a thick wall with barbed wire at the top and several armed guards.
“Who are you?” I ask the woman in English, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she turns to look at one of the men—a tall, thin one who seems to be their leader.
“You can go now, thank you,” he says to her, speaking American English without an accent, and I realize she must be an interpreter.
She nods at him and hurries toward the gate on the other side of the courtyard. The man steps toward me, and I see an expression of disgust cross his narrow face. He must’ve smelled my lack of showers.
“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Igor.
“Where are you taking me?” I’m trying to stay calm. This is not at all what I was expecting. What could Americans want from me? Unless... Could they be with—
“Colombia,” the man says, confirming my horrified guess. “Julian Esguerra requests the honor of your presence.”
And before I can process this new blow, he drags me toward the gate.
- Writer
