Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (diy ebook reader TXT) 📕

with a client and went into the bathroom to change my clothes and found him there crying and that we got talking, and it was spur of the moment. I put my wig on him and when I saw how happy he was, I’d added the cape and makeup. I said he was so proud of himself that we went to have coffee together at this new French place nearby with croissants, so crisp and delicious, with chocolate oozing out of them. And I said that I was happy, too, because for the first time since I moved here, I had found myself a friend… And I just babbled on and on.”

“Did he believe you?”

“He didn’t kill me…”

“And yet you’re here, in the hospital.”

“That’s because of the client.”

“What do you know about him?”

“That he is very rich. He had a heavy British accent, but he was dressed like an Arab man.”

“Remember anything else?”

“He likes beating women. I think his name is Yassin. Maybe that was his nickname.”

“Where did you meet him? Could you identify the place? The route they used to take you there, a landmark, at the very least?”

“We drove to some sort of airstrip and from there we took a helicopter. It was grey with a red and gold emblem on it.”

“Where to?”

“To a ship at sea.”

That at least explained why they couldn’t find him. Yassin wasn’t in New York or even on US soil. He was on a boat somewhere in the middle of the ocean, far from the shore. How can he be at in multiple places at the same time? Did he have a double? Maybe a few people posing as him?

“Did you see the name of the boat? Maybe when you got closer? Usually the name is written in big letters and can be seen from afar.”

She shook her head apologetically. “I think I was too frightened… The whole way I thought he was going to throw me out of the helicopter into the sea, and then no one would be able to find my body. I only remember that when I saw the boat, I was wild with relief. After we landed, I thought it didn’t look like a regular luxury yacht, white and clean, but more like a cargo ship, but inside… It was the most luxurious place I had ever seen in my life. Fancier than any of the VIP rooms in the casino.”

“Did you see any crew?”

“I saw servants. Is that considered a crew?”

“Only servants?”

“And a lot of other men…” Once again, she lowered her eyes.

“Did they beat you? Or only him?”

“Just him…” Her voice was but a whisper and I could barely hear when she added, “I was just a punching bag to him. After he wore himself down from beating me, he passed me onto them…”

I knew it was hard for her but still I pressed on. “Do you remember how many men there were?”

It was excruciating for her to recall. It was clear, the way she grasped the sheet in her fist, twisting until her knuckles went white.

“There were six, and three more stood around and just watched.”

Voices sounded outside Ashley’s closed door. “The patient is still too weak for interrogation,” a male voice was saying, aggressively.

“I am sorry, doctor, but it is a matter of life and death. We have orders to investigate every single lead.”

Ashley looked at me, frightened. “What do I tell them?” she asked.

“The truth. You can’t lie to them. The stakes are too high, and I don’t want them indicting you for cooperating with terrorists.”

“And if they ask about you, if you visited here?”

“Don’t lie Ashley. I’ll manage.”

“I can’t say that I’m a sex worker. I’ll tell them I was raped.”

There was something defiant in her face and I knew that there was no question of persuading her otherwise. I also didn’t have time to listen to the argument happening on the other side of the door. I gently pressed Ashley’s hand, and then bent down and carefully kissed her bruised cheek. I walked over to the window and checked it. It was a public hospital, and the building was old, so the windows opened upwards. There was a wide ledge outside to prevent accidents. I quietly lifted the window, slipped through and closed it behind me.

Exiting through a window that only opens from the inside is a point of no return. I was now stuck on the fifth floor on a ledge wide enough to prevent falling, but not wide enough to walk on. The darkness enveloped me protectively, like a mother. The weather, on the other hand, antagonized me. The wind was terribly strong, and so I pressed myself to the wall, relying on the light flowing from the other windows on that floor to guide my escape route.

All that was left to do was to continue on the ledge until I reached an open window or an empty room whose window I could break. Thanks to the cold, the few people who were walking across the parking lot were rushing to reach the warmth of their cars. They wouldn’t think to look up, and there was little chance that, even if they did, they would see me on the ledge above. I felt my way, step after step. Even a small gap in the ledge could spoil my plan, and so I moved gingerly – I would rather not fall five stories to my almost-certain death.

There were no empty rooms. The sounds of a particularly loud argument came from a room ahead of me. I heard a voice say, “I am choking in here. Open the window and leave it cracked.”

A woman’s voice said, “The whole room is freezing because the window is open and you’re not the only one in here.”

“So then put me in a room by myself! I swear to you, I will break this window if you don’t leave a little crack open!”

I heard the window slam closed and I hoped that the patient