Somewhere in Russia
It's been 15 years since I saw the last non russian here. 15 years. I was beginning to think Safin killed them all.
"Who is he?" my only friend, Janet, asks as she pushes herself further into view. "How do you know he's not russian?"
I press my index finger against my lips and Janet lowers her whisper, knowing as well as I do that Safin, or that God-awful brother of his will hear us and punish us for eavesdropping. Always paranoid. Always assuming the worst. Always approaching everything with caution and weapons, and rightfully so. Such is the way of life filled with murder and slavery.
I peer through the sliver in the door, letting my vision focus on the tall, lean white man who looks as though he was born with the inability to smile.
"I don't know," I whisper softly. "I can just tell."
Janet squints her eyes as though it might help her to hear better. I can feel the heat from her breath warming the skin on my throat as she presses harder against me. We watch the man from the shadow of the tiny room that we have shared since they brought her here a year ago. One door. One window. One bed. Four dingy walls and a bookshelf with a few books in the English language which I have read more times than I can count. But we aren't locked in and have never been. Safin knows that if we ever try to escape that we won't get far. I don't even know where in Russia I am. But I know that wherever it is it wouldn't be easy for a young woman like me to find her way back into the France alone. I still wonder how I got here. It's been so long since Safin killed my mother and "saved me" that I think I've been here since I was born. I'm not even surprised that my father hasn't come to save me until now, unless he's dead too or maybe he thinks I'm dead. I erase all these thoughts from my mind. The second I walk out that door and make my way down that dark, dusty road alone is the second I choose suicide as my path.
The man, wearing a long, black trench coat over black clothes sits on the wooden chair in the living room, his back straight, and his gaze expertly filtering every motion within the room. But no one seems to notice this but me. Something tells me that even though Janet and I are completely hidden inside our room in a dark hallway which barely allows us to see the living room that this man knows we're watching. He knows everything that is going on around him: one of Safin's men standing in the shadow of the opposite hall with his gun hidden at the ready. The six men standing in wait outside on the porch. The two men directly behind him with assault rifles cemented to their hands. These two haven't taken their eyes off the man's back, but I think he, although not facing them, sees more of them than they do of him. And then there are the more obvious people in the room: Safin, a dangerous lord who sits directly in front of the man. Smiling and confident and completely unafraid. And then there is Safin's brother, wearing his usual army suit along with that ,eye". In case you didn't know Safin is my "boyfriend" or at least he thinks so. I'm his favorite only because he says I had a terrible childhood with a terrible family, and that I deserve more, which he says will give me, but I've been here for 15 YEARS and nothing has changed.
"I only agreed to meet with you," the man says in fluent russian, "because I was assured that you would not waste my time." He glances at Safin's brother briefly.
"Besides our business, I want something else" His unmoving expression never falters.
Safin smirks at the man and raises a mug of coffee to his lips. After taking a sip he says, "My offer is three million man, what else you could want?" He sets the mug on the table that separates the two of them and then leans casually back against the chair, one leg crossed over the other. "I want to see one of the girls you have." Safin makes a surprised face, as if he doesn't know what he's talking about.
"I know that you "slaves", says the man.
"How do you know?" Safin asks.
"I can say that I search before."
"Then which one you want ?"
"Blue eyes, blonde, 30 years old, french."
This is me! I swallow hard, moving away from the door. "What is it? What did he say?" Janet asks.
"Let's go to sleep!"
"What? But you didn't tell me about -" Right at this moment the door opens and the light comes on. I close my eyes, pretending to sleep.
"That is the girl you want ?" Safin asks the man, pointing to Janet, but Safin knew too well that the girl the man was talking about is me.
"No, I want her!" A hand shakes me, and I stand up looking at the tall and blond man in front of me.
"You can't take her, she can't be sold." says Safin.
"Why?" ask the man without taking his eyes of me.
"Not her!"
"Then...I don't take her, but I want to try her, she must be good, if you don't wanna sell her." Oh, no,no,no, I've had enough of this.
"Okay, but just 10 minutes."
"Deal."
"Primo, take them to the room!" Safin ordered his brother.
"Darling, a client has come, go with him" says Safin, putting his hand on my shoulder.
Primo takes us to the ,horror room", as I call it, but the man is stopped by Primo, who hands him a condom.
"Of course" the man says, entering the room and closing the door.
"What do you want?" I ask, already ready to take off my clothes.
"Nothing that you think I could want" says the man so casually.
"Then?"
"Madeleine" my name on his lips, gives me butterflies.
"How to you know my name ?"
"I'm here to save you, I can't tell you too much"
"And how you gonna do it ?"
"I'm gonna kill them"
Kill, a word that means a lot and on which my salvation depends.
"You have to trust me!" says the man approaching me.
"How can I trust you when I don't even know your name?!"
"My name's Bond. James Bond"
"Why do you want to save me?"
"Your father sent me."
"Wha-" tears start to flow down my eyelids.
"Look, I'm gonna tell you everything, but after I get you out of here."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My father had sent this man, James Bond, to rescue me from the clutches of Safin and his brother Primo. For years, I had been trapped in this life of prostitution, forced to do things I never wanted to do just to survive. And now, here was my chance to escape.
"How do I know I can trust you?" I asked, looking into James' eyes for any sign of deceit.
He took a step closer to me, his hand reaching out to wipe away the tears on my cheek. "You don't have to trust me," he said. "But you do have to believe that I'm here to help you. And I promise you, Madeleine, that I won't let anything happen to you."
"Okay," I said, my voice shaky. "But how do we get out of here?" Bond pulled out a small device from his pocket and pressed a button. A few seconds later, the door to the horror room opened. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand. "We don't have much time." I took his hand and we started to run down the dark hallway, past closed doors. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, afraid that someone would see us and stop us. As we turned a corner, we came face to face with Primo, who was standing guard. He looked surprised to see us and reached for his gun, but Bond was quicker. He punched Primo
in the face, causing him to fall to the ground, unconscious.
"We need to move fast," Bond said, grabbing Primo's gun and handing it to me. "We're not out of danger yet."
I felt the weight of the gun in my hand and was terrified of what might happen if we were caught. But I knew that I couldn't go back to that life, and I had to trust Bond to get us out of here.
We kept running, taking turns and trying to avoid any guards that might be patrolling the area. Finally, we came to a door at the end of the hallway. Bond kicked it open, revealing a stairway leading up.
"Almost there," he said, as we started to climb the stairs. But just as we were reaching the top, we heard footsteps coming down the other side. It was Safin.
"Stop right there!" he shouted, pointing his gun at us. "You're not going anywhere."
Bond pushed me behind him, shielding me from the danger. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but I knew he was buying time. He had a plan.
"I didn't realize you were such a sore loser, Safin," Bond said with a smirk.
"You think this is a game?" Safin snarled. "You think you can just come in here and take what's mine?"
"I don't want what's yours," Bond replied calmly. "I just want her."
Safin's eyes flickered to me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I was a possession to him, nothing more. But Bond saw me as a person, as someone worth saving.
"You can't have her," Safin growled. "She belongs to me."
"No one belongs to anyone," Bond said, his voice low and dangerous.
"Everyone has the right to their own freedom, including Madeleine. You can't keep her locked up in this place forever."
Safin laughed, his eyes glinting with malice. "You really think you can take me down? I've got an army of men at my disposal. What do you have?"
Bond didn't answer. Instead, he leaped forward, grabbing Safin's gun and twisting it out of his hand. Safin stumbled back, caught off guard. Bond used the opportunity to punch him in the face, knocking him out cold.
"We need to go," Bond said, grabbing my hand and leading me up the stairs. "Let's get out of here before anyone else comes."
We burst through the door at the top of the stairs and found ourselves in an alleyway. Bond hailed a cab and we got in, driving towards freedom.
I couldn't believe it. After all these years, I was finally free.