Diary of a Teenage Jewel Thief(48)
“Where do you think we are?” Will asks me once the cockpit door closes behind Petrov.
I shrug, then answer quietly, “Somewhere in Europe, I guess.”
The entire cabin exists in some weird sort of quasi-silence for the next few moments. Then Petrov comes out of the cockpit and heads for Uncle Samuel. “Wake up.” His voice is deep and gruff and filled with annoyance, and he follows up his command by kicking Uncle Samuel’s foot.
Uncle Samuel snorts and wakes with a start, sitting up quickly. Through it all, his drink stays perfectly balanced in his hand. He rubs his red-rimmed eyes with his free hand and looks up at Petrov with something like fear in his expression. Petrov turns away from him and claims the seat next to Vasili.
“Put on your seat belts. We’re about to land,” he says to no one in particular as he secures his own over his lap. I do my best to collect both sides of my seat belt and clasp them together with my hands tied. The process takes longer than I would have liked, and by the time I’m officially buckled in, we’re already descending toward the ground.
The landing is bumpier than what I’m used to, and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re in a smaller aircraft or if it’s because we’ve landed at the world’s most rinky-dink airport. If this even is an airport. The tarmac below the plane is so narrow, it’s not even visible from my window, if it exists at all. For all I know, we’ve just landed in a dirt field.
Not far from us, a tall chain-link fence separates our grassy area from another equally barren area on the other side. In the distance, hills roll across the horizon, and I think there might be a farmhouse or two out there, but all in all, the entire place looks pretty deserted. No real airport terminal, no real buildings even.
As soon as we roll to a stop, Petrov is out of his seat and standing at the front of the cabin preparing to address us. His expression is gleeful and expectant. He claps his hands in front of him. “Okay, here’s how this is going to go…” He pauses to look pointedly at me. “You and your little boyfriend are going to go with Vasil here to retrieve the…items. I am going to stay with your uncle and keep your mother company to ensure your swift return. And you will return swiftly, won’t you?” It’s more a statement than a question, and I nod my agreement immediately. It’s not like I have any other choice in the matter. “Good, good. Vasil, do see that our young friends behave.”
Vasili rises from his seat and stretches. His shirt pulls up at the waist to reveal a holstered gun on his hip. A glance at his face tells me he meant to reveal his weapon, likely as some sort of silent threat regarding what he’ll do to us if we step out of line.
Will and I stand together, and he leads me down the aisle toward Vasili, keeping his body between us, trying to offer what little protection he can. Without further discussion, Petrov opens the cabin door and waits for us to file through. On the other side, the airstairs stretch down to the tarmac ready for us to depart. I’m last to exit, and before I do, I turn back to get a good look at my mom.
I love you, I mouth, and she nods back at me.
“Don’t worry, your mother will be fine. As long as you bring back what your father took from me,” Petrov says and gives my shoulder a little shove toward the exit. I step through into bright sunlight and carefully pick my way down the steps. On the ground, another black SUV with darkly tinted windows is already running, and Vasili holds the rear passenger door open in wait for me.
A timid-looking man with more hair on his face than on his head is dressed in a nondescript olive jumpsuit and yellow reflective vest and haunting the space at the bottom of the steps. An airport worker maybe? The only sign that this is even an airport is the narrow strip of asphalt under the plane and a single flight tower at the far end. I think about asking the worker for help, but when I glance back up the stairs, Petrov is there watching me. Besides, I don’t even know what country we’re in or what language to ask for help in. I climb peaceably into the SUV and resign myself to going with Vasili to God only knows where to retrieve God only knows what.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The drive to wherever we’re going isn’t long at all compared to how long we were on that stupid plane, but it still feels like an eternity passes before we drive through the entrance cut into a high stone wall and finally come to a stop outside a large stone villa. If I had to guess by the architecture, I’d say we were somewhere in rural Italy. But then again, I’m no scholar of architecture or anything.
Vasili cuts off the engine but doesn’t immediately move to exit the vehicle.
“Who lives here?” I ask.
“Someone your father used to know, I’m told. Whatever it is your father hid from Petrov, this man has it.”
“So how are we going to play this?” Will holds up his bound wrists. “Do you want them to know we’re your hostages, or are you going to cut us loose and we pretend we’re all the best of friends?”
Or that I’m a hired escort, I think as I look down at my short skirt and fishnets, which now have a golf-ball-size hole near the knee.
Vasili eyes the rope tied around Will’s wrists for a moment, then sighs in resignation. “Very well, I will cut you loose. But do not do anything stupid. Remember, Petrov still has your mother, and he will kill her if you cross him.” He directs that last part to me, spearing me with a look so full with the threat of violence I can almost feel it.