The Boy Who Glowed in the Dark (31 page)

L
UO COULDN’T BELIEVE
his eyes. Adam had scampered up the cliff as though it were even ground. In all his years training and working with the Black Berets, he’d never seen anything like it.

As soon as Adam jumped over the castle wall, Luo took his turn. In training, he’d timed out as one of the fastest free solo climbers in his class. No harness, no safety rope. He enjoyed the exhilaration of the free solo climb. He’d also stayed in shape and prided himself on having lost no more than a step or two during the twenty-four years that followed. But after watching the kid scale the wall, Luo felt slow and old. In fact, he felt strangely human, as though the boy were a different species.

It took him two minutes to climb the wall. Adam helped pull him over the guardrail. Luo’s biceps burned and his knees ached.

A glint shone in Adam’s eyes. “The door’s open,” he said.

Luo had longed to hear those words, but now that he did they filled him with dread. It was a trap, he thought. He and the boy had been blinded by optimism.

Why wasn’t a guard stationed at the back full-time? Why hadn’t security seen Adam when he climbed the wall, no matter how quickly he moved? Why hadn’t they sent someone to investigate? Why was the door to the tower open if the owner was holding a hostage inside? At a minimum, an open door increased the risk of suicide, if nothing else.

But it was too late to change plans now. They were committed.

They raced to the door. Adam grasped the door handle. Luo tapped him on the shoulder. Motioned for him to wait.

Luo lifted his left pant leg. Removed the gun from the holster and affixed the sound suppressor from his pant pocket. The boomerang was his favorite weapon, but he wasn’t an idiot. He’d bought the gun at the sporting goods store. Only idiots brought boomerangs to a gunfight.

Luo nudged Adam aside. He opened the door with his gun raised. Glanced inside.

A stairway led downward. A light shone through the window of a door twenty-five to thirty steps below. The stairwell was silent.

They entered the Swallow’s Nest.

Luo led the way. When they reached the bottom step, they ducked into opposite corners of the door well to avoid being seen. Luo raised his head slowly until his eyes could see through the window. It was the size of a book.

A hallway awaited them on the other side. Luo glanced in each direction. His line of sight was limited by the size of the window but he didn’t see anyone.

He glanced at Adam and put a finger to his lips. Adam nodded.

Luo cracked the door open.

A drumbeat sounded in the distance. They weren’t real drums. They lacked the percussive echo of the live instrument. No, it was a musical recording. Someone was listening to music in a large interior room, Luo thought, directly across from them. He recalled storming the home of a leader of the Chechen rebels on Lake Kazenoi. It didn’t have a tower like the Swallow’s Nest, but the bedrooms had remarkable views. Rich people were obsessed with views because they made their fortunes in the city. They thought that by looking at nature they could become one with it, which was absurd.

The bedrooms with the views were on the opposite side of the hallway, facing the lake. The living room, kitchen, and dining rooms had to be on lower levels.

Luo pointed at Adam with his index finger, then patted his own hip.
Stay close to me,
he mouthed.

Adam nodded again.

They slipped into the hallway. Wall sconces in the shape of Siberian tigers illuminated their path. The tigers’ eyes glowed orange. The hallway appeared to form a rectangle around the perimeter of the third level.

Luo edged toward the music. Horns had joined the drums to create an electric sound. There was a Polynesian flavor to the beat. It rose to quick peaks and then relaxed for a moment, only to intensify again. Luo glanced behind him to make sure Adam was following. The kid was hugging the wall, knife in his right hand. Luo doubted the kid had ever sunk metal through flesh. But if Eva’s life were at stake, he didn’t doubt the kid would have the gumption to do it.

They approached the first bedroom. The strip beneath the door was dark. The lights were off. Luo grasped the door handle, turned it slowly, and burst inside.

Rich furnishings made of wood and olive fabric filled the room. The bed looked like a glamorous tent, with four polished mahogany posts. It was perfectly made. A wall of glass faced the lake. Expensive-looking artwork filled the walls. Luo caught a glimpse of the bathroom through an open door. Everything was in place. There was no sign of disruption. No evidence of anyone living there.

They proceeded to the second bedroom. It was similar to the first one, but the furnishings looked sleek and modern, the kind his hockey teammate from Sweden had in his room. Luo closed the door. They continued forward toward the end of the hallway where it turned right to proceed along a perpendicular wall.

The music grew louder. They were approaching the entrance to the interior room. Based on the source of the sound, the entrance to the music room would be around the corner to the right. Luo raised his gun. Adam followed him to the end of the hallway.

The music rose to a fevered pitch. A drumroll. A crash of cymbals. A final smash of the drum—

The music stopped.

“Play it again, play it again,” a man said. He spoke fluent Russian, like a Muscovite, but coarse. He sounded young, not too educated. At least not formally. A kid from the streets.

“Yeah,” a second man said. He sounded frighteningly similar to the first man. “The theme song is the best part. It’s the best part of the show.”

“Second best. The girl in the bikini is the best part of the show.”

“That’s what I meant.”

Luo turned the corner. Hugged the inside wall and glanced into the room.

An enormous television covered the far wall. Two rows of plush leather seats faced the television. The height of the seatbacks prevented Luo from seeing the two men he’d heard talking.

The drumroll started again. A giant wave rolled forward on screen. Some English lettering appeared. The title of a movie, Luo thought. A curvaceous Polynesian beauty stepped out of the ocean. A handsome man spun around and looked at the camera. The theme song blared.

Luo glanced past the television room further down the hallway. More bedrooms. One of the doors was open. Why would one door be open while the others were closed?

Luo motioned to Adam that he was headed past the television room toward the open bedroom door. Then he looked inside the room again. The men remained transfixed by the scene on the television.

Luo darted past them to the other side of the door.

A phone rang.

The music stopped.

Voices sounded. They were coming from the front.

Another set of voices sounded. These were more distant, but they were coming from the back. Someone was approaching from the corner they’d just rounded.

“They’re bringing her up,” one of the men in the television room said. He’d answered the phone and was informing his colleague.

Luo couldn’t retreat. He’d be passing the door to the television room. One or both of the men inside might see him. But Adam was still on the other side of the door. Luo glanced at him.

The kid was already backpedalling. He pointed toward the outer wall. Turned his right wrist to simulate opening a door.
I’m going into one of the bedrooms
, he was saying.

Luo nodded. Smart boy.

Adam disappeared around the corner.

Luo hustled into the open bedroom. The floor was neither wood nor carpet. It was made of stiff hay, woven together tightly. There was no bed in the room, either. Just an enormous mat on the floor. Luo had seen pictures of such a floor and sleeping device in a magazine once. It was a travel magazine about the Far East. Evidently, this was the Swallow’s Nest’s Japanese room. A portrait of a samurai warrior wielding a sword hung on a wall, but the samurai was Russian-looking, not Japanese. There was no sign of any luggage. Eva didn’t have luggage, hence it was quite possible she was sleeping in this room—

Footsteps approached. One pair, heels clicking against the wood floor. A former soldier, marching in imaginary formation.

Luo ducked into a spare bathroom. A giant stainless steel soaking tub flanked a black lacquer vanity with cabinets covered with rice paper. He hid behind the door, gun raised to his shoulder, pointing at the ceiling.

A person entered the bedroom. Something clattered. Once, twice, three times. Footsteps started up again and faded.

Luo snuck back in the bedroom.

A tray of food rested on a desk in the corner. A steak, mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes, a bowl of borscht, and a basket of buckwheat bread. A glass of ice and a bottle of Orangina.

A man shouted over the din of the music. “I love this show,” he said. He was an ebullient sort with a baritone voice. “Has the girl come out of the water yet?”

A third man, Luo thought. The man who was bringing “her” up.

A muffled answer.

“Rewind it, rewind it,” the third man said. “I have to see this.”

The music stopped. Luo waited for it to restart. When it did, he poked his head out the door.

An elegant but broad-shouldered man in a suit ducked into the television room, his attention fixed on something straight ahead—the television, no doubt—and eyes wide with delight. He disappeared inside.

He left a young woman in the hallway behind him. She too, had turned to face the television. Luo recognized her as the girl from Fukushima. She was tall and lean with broad shoulders and narrow hips. Her dark brown hair fell to her shoulders. It looked recently washed. Good. They had allowed her to bathe. Her slumping shoulders registered defeat. When the third man disappeared into the television room, she glanced down the hallway.

Their eyes met. Luo noted a look of determination in her expression. She was more alert and conscious than her captors thought. She was looking for an escape. Of that Luo was certain.

But he was not certain who this girl was. Once again he didn’t recognize her. All he saw was a scared yet resilient girl. Yes, she had an oval face like her mother. And yes, she had his coloring, and her build seemed appropriate for her parents. Yet none of this was conclusive. This girl might be anyone’s daughter. Only Adam would know if she was Eva.

She stepped back, as though he was someone to fear, but didn’t say anything.

Luo brought his finger to his lips.

Her eyes widened. Only a friend would motion for her to be quiet. She froze. Luo could sense her realization. She understood Luo might be her ally. He might be here to help her. Why else would he be hiding in a bedroom? Why else would he have lifted his finger to his lips?

Luo wished he were on the other side of the entrance to the television room. That way he could simply whisk the girl and Adam down the hallways, up the stairs, and over the wall. But the television room stood between him and the girl. He couldn’t take the risk of dashing past it. Any of the three men might see him. If he were in one of the other bedrooms, he could sneak out and grab her right now. The path to the stairs leading to the tower was clear . . .

A shadow appeared behind the girl. A hand reached out to tap her on the shoulder.

Luo recognized the forest-green jacket sleeve.

Adam had come to the same conclusion.

CHAPTER 45

T
HE PATH TO
the stairwell was clear. All Bobby had to do was yank Eva out of the doorway and pray that the opening sequence to
Hawaii Five-O
kept the men in the media room occupied. The man who’d escorted Eva past the bedroom where Bobby had hidden had made them crank up the volume. The three men glued to the television screen wouldn’t hear anything. The only risk was that one of them would turn around.

Bobby slipped out of the bedroom and skulked down the hallway. Eva stood nine paces away, back to him. He still hadn’t seen her face. She was a bit taller than he remembered, but then again, three years had passed. Maybe she’d grown an inch. And she was thinner. That made sense given she’d been in Fukushima. If she were part of a volunteer organization they probably didn’t feed her well. And besides, how could anyone not lose weight on a Japanese diet?

Six paces away.

And then he wondered, why had she gone to Fukushima in the first place? What sane person—let alone one who’d grown up around the Ukrainian Zone of Exclusion—would volunteer to go to a radioactive place? The question never bothered him before, but now it consumed him and would not let go.

Three paces.

The sweet smell of honey broke his concentration. Shampoo, he thought, as his eyes fell on her silken hair. Honey shampoo. Very popular with the girls in Russia. It had been Eva’s favorite. The owner must have had some here. Perhaps the owner’s wife.

The music blared. Bobby couldn’t afford to startle Eva. He didn’t want to make her jump. Better he wave with his right hand while still out of sight of the entrance to the media room. Try to catch her attention via her peripheral vision.