Shadow of Betrayal

But she couldn’t hold on to any of the memories for long before they slipped into an image of Iris, eyes filling with water, lower lip quavering, her whole body emanating fear and confusion.

Marion rocked harder, trying to force her mind away from any thoughts of the child. But when they did, what replaced them were the faces of her mother and father and her sister, all staring at her with lifeless eyes.

She was jerked into the present by the sound of the latch to her door moving.

They’d come for her. Finally, they’d come.

It was her turn now.

Let the first bullet kill me, she prayed. Dear God, please.

She stared at the door as it swung open. She saw the shadow of a man, a gun at his side.

When the beam of a flashlight moved across her face, she started to scream.

“Hey, hey,” a male voice said. “It’s all right. Don’t yell. It’s okay.”

But she knew it wasn’t okay. She’d seen the gun in his hand. And though her eyes were now shut tight, she could feel him approach her.

Her scream turned into a sob, and tears began pouring down her cheeks.

“It’s all right,” he repeated, much closer now.

Why did he keep saying that?

“Nate, move the light out of her eyes.”

The glow on her lids lessened, but didn’t go completely away.

“It’s okay,” the man said. “We’re here to help you. Take a breath. Relax.”

Despite herself, she did what he said. After a moment, she allowed her eyelids to part.

The man was in front of her, a warm smile on his face. She almost smiled, too, then she realized who he was.

It was the man who chased her in Montreal.

The man who had tried to stop her in front of her parents’ house.

He wasn’t here to help her.

He was here to kill her.

She started screaming again.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said.

“You tried to catch me,” she said. “At my parents’. You killed my parents!”

“I never even met your parents,” the man said. “I’m sorry they’re dead, but I had nothing to do with it. I was there to help you. Like I’m here now.”

Easy words. “You killed them. You killed my sister. Now you’re going to kill me, too!”

“Listen to me. I am not here to hurt you. I’m here to get you out.”

She stared at him, unable to believe it.

“Your name is Marion Dupuis. You smuggled a child into the States. A little girl from Africa. You were trying to save her.”

“You killed that man in New York,” she said. “I saw your picture on TV.”

The man almost laughed. “The same people who brought you here set things up to look like I murdered someone. We’re the same, in a way. These people aren’t friends to either of us.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I get that. And that’s fine. But think of it this way: If you think you’re going to be killed anyway, what’s it going to hurt coming with us?”

“I think I hear something.” The voice came from the man holding the flashlight. Nate, he’d been called.

“Check,” the other man said.

Nate disappeared into the hall, plunging the room back into semi-darkness.

“Keep quiet,” the man with the gun whispered.

She did as she was told, a part of her wanting to believe the man’s words.

Several seconds passed before Nate returned.

“Two people,” he said. “Passed right by, though.”

“Good,” his partner said. “Now what’s it going to be? You come with us and see if we can get you out of here? Or stay and die for sure?”

“Who are you?” she asked.

The man hesitated, then said, “I’m Quinn. My friend’s Nate. So, what’s it going to be?”

She wanted to go, but…

“Iris,” she said.

“What?”

“The child,” she said.

“Iris,” Quinn repeated.

“I won’t leave without her.”

Quinn went silent as he turned to the side and stared at the empty corner of the room for several seconds before looking back at her. “What if we get you someplace safe, and then I go look for her?”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“The place I mean is still within the facility. But we’ll have a better chance to find her if I go alone.”

She could see Nate glance at his partner, concern on his face. “I told you I don’t trust you,” she said.

“Without us you won’t even have the chance to find her.”

He was right, and she knew it. Oh, God, she thought. What choice do I have?

The simple answer was none.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Can you walk?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

Quinn held out his free hand to help her up, but she avoided it and rose on her own.

“From now until we get you hidden, you have to do exactly as I say, and no talking.”

“Okay.”

He looked at her feet, and she followed his gaze.

“What?” she asked.

“Do you have any shoes?”

“Right… yes.”

She spotted her tennis shoes and started to sit down so she could put them on, but he said, “Not yet. You’ll be quieter in bare feet. But once we get outside, you’ll need them.”

“All right.” She was starting to believe him.

“Just don’t drop them.”

She nodded, then followed him out the door of her cell.

It was weird to be there without the guards pushing her around. It felt almost like she was doing something wrong. As they approached the entrance to the main corridor, she glanced into the open door of the first cell, and jerked to a stop.

There was a man covered in blood lying in the middle of the floor.

“He’s dead?” she asked, surprised she could manage the words.

“Yes,” Quinn said.

“I heard gunshots,” she said.

“I heard them, too.”

“I tried to let him know I was here. That he wasn’t alone.”

“I know,” the man said. “That’s how we found you. He told us.” “He … told you?”

But he didn’t answer. Instead he ushered her toward where Nate stood near the exit.

“Later,” he whispered to her as she passed.

“Back to the tunnel?” Nate said.

“Yes,” Quinn said. He looked at Marion. “Ready?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”