Page 1 of Russian Roulette
1
JADE
Isteady my breathing and try not to panic as the cold metal of a gun presses against my temple. My Russian captors yell at me in a language I don’t understand, their faces twisted in rage and their eyes wild with a madness that makes my heart race.
The deck of the dilapidated boat is slick with saltwater, making it impossible to keep my footing. Rough waves crash against the vessel, spraying water over the railing. The wind howls fiercely, whipping my hair and splashing saltwater into my eyes.
If I don’t act quickly, it will be too late.
I take a deep breath, gathering my courage and waiting for an opportunity to strike. My heart pounds in my chest, my thoughts racing. This might be my only chance to escape.
When a wave knocks my captor off balance, I seize the moment. I twist out of his grip, and knee him hard in the balls. His surprised yelp of pain is music to my ears as I sprint toward the side of the boat. The slippery deck nearly causes me to fall.
His partner shouts at me, and the sound of gunfire reverberates through the air. Bullets whizz by me, splintering the boat’s rotten, wooden rail. I don’t stop or glance back.
If I hesitate, it will all be over.
I reach the edge of the boat, climb up on the rail, and dive headfirst into the water. The freezing water shocks my system, but I push through and start swimming away from the boat. The darkness blankets the water, with only the moon casting an eerie glow across the waves. Using the shadows to my advantage, I distance myself from the boat as fast as possible.
The Russians shut off the boat’s engine, leaving only the roar of the wind and waves. They shine a powerful flashlight over the water, searching for me. Whenever the light beam moves in my direction, I take a deep breath, duck underwater, and wait for the glow to pass before resurfacing.
The relentless waves crash over my body as I struggle to stay afloat. The salt stings my eyes and throat, making breathing difficult. My muscles ache and my lungs burn, but I keep swimming, driven by a fierce determination to survive.
The roar of the boat’s engine eventually fades, becoming a distant hum. I swim farther away, my body steadily cutting through the water. The gasps of my own labored breathing and the rhythmic splashing of water are the only sounds breaking the silence.
My body is exhausted, but my mind is aware of the danger that still lurks behind me. I’m alone now, adrift on a vast, dark sea. I swim until my muscles scream in protest, my arms and legs begging to give up. The water is so cold, it’s soaking deep into my bones, and I lose sensation in my limbs.
I don’t give up.
I’ve come too far to let them catch me.
I push through the pain and exhaustion, using the last bit of strength I have left to stay afloat. Finally, I can no longer see the boat’s lights.
I’m safe for now.
My muscles scream for rest, so I allow myself to float on my back, gazing up at the starless sky above me. The fear and tension fades away, and a sense of calm washes over me. My sense of relief is short-lived, though, as my body starts to shiver uncontrollably. The night air is frigid, and hypothermia is setting in.
I scan the horizon for any sign of land, but there’s only water stretching out in every direction. My heart sinks; I’m in the middle of nowhere. There’s a chance I won’t make it out of this alive, after all.
As my hope dwindles, I spot a faint light in the distance. It’s a beacon of hope in the darkness, and I swim toward it with renewed determination. The light grows brighter, and soon I can make out the silhouette of a fishing boat. Relief floods through me, and I shout for help.
The fisherman aboard the boat throws me a rope, which I desperately grasp. He hauls me up and I collapse onto the deck. The taste of salt lingers on my chapped lips, and my soaked clothes cling to my skin like a second layer.
None of that matters.
Because I’m alive.
If those fucking Russians ever cross my path again, they’re dead men.
2
JADE
Twenty-four hours later…
“Can I get you something to drink, miss? You haven’t moved in hours.”
I glance over my shoulder at the cocktail waitress standing behind me in the Imperial Hotel Casino and smile politely. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
