The Buried

CHAPTER 13

The door opened again, and heavy footsteps crossed to where Helen sat. As her new visitor stopped in front of her, Helen caught the distinct odor of cigarettes.

A deep breath was followed by a loud expulsion of air. A second later a stream of smoke hit the cloth bag. The material filtered out much of the cloud, but plenty still got through. Helen tried not to cough but failed.

Her visitor took a step closer. Helen held her breath but there was no second cloud. Instead, the person circled her slowly to the point directly behind the chair.

“We can kill you whenever we want.” A male voice, rough from his cigarette habit. “Is your life really worth protecting someone you’ve never met before?” The steps completed the circle and came to rest back in front of Helen. “You are a foolish woman, Ms. Cho. You have an opportunity to help yourself and yet you act the hero. There is no such thing as heroes.”

Suddenly hands grabbed both sides of her head and tilted her face up. Though she couldn’t see him through the bag, she could taste his sour breath as he squeezed her skull like he was going to cave it in.

He laughed as he finally let go. “This could have been so easy for you. Know that what comes next was chosen by you alone.”

When he walked out of the room, three new pairs of steps entered, accompanied by the sound of rattling wheels. The procession came to a halt a few feet to Helen’s left. There was the clinking and jangling of items being placed on a metal surface. Then silence.

She was about to make a smartass remark when someone grabbed her arm. Though she was already strapped to the chair, the trio wrapped two new restraints around her chest and shoulder, further limiting her ability to move.

After this was done, they left.

The silence lasted less than a minute before Helen heard the familiar clicking of heels.

The woman.

She approached in the same casual manner as she had on her first visit, stopping at the same place the man had.

“My associate pointed out to me that I forgot to introduce myself. I am Nanou Deschamps.”

Helen knew she had heard the name before, but her mind was still muddled and she couldn’t place it. “Good for you.”

A hum whirred to life, followed by the sizzle and pop of an electric arc.

“People in my home country call me Le Loup.”

Oh, God, Helen thought, making the connection. It couldn’t be.

“In English it means—”

“I know what it means,” Helen said.

The Wolf.