Prose

Maria Ramos tries to stop shivering, when her jacket is pulled off her shoulders while she is loaded into one of the Jeeps on the quay.
 
There is a cold wind blowing suddenly out of the direction of the sea and the ride in the open Jeeps makes her even colder.

She is happy for the darkness and that the night is sheltering her from the people on the street and suddenly she is very afraid, when the convoy of Jeeps park in front of a concrete building that is the headquarters of the Policia Judicial de Inteligencia.

She is roughly dragged from the Jeep on to the sidewalk next to the building and her carry bag that had been returned to her, flies out of her hands while its contents spills in front of her.

”You damn, stupid bitch!”  One of the soldiers roars next to her and slaps her from her feet, causing her to fall among her possessions.

”Pick those things up!  Come on and hurry up,” it is snapped at her and she is busy on her hands and knees picking up her possessions and leaves the magazine that she had received from the officer where it had fallen next to a jeep.

She notices that the doll that she had removed from the burnt floor on that day with Ryno and has carried as good luck charm lies further away on the other side of the magazine and a feeling of catastrophe comes over her while she leaves it where it has fallen.


One of the soldiers shines around her with a torch and she feels relieved when they leave the magazine where it had fallen and they are satisfied, that she has retrieved all of her possessions.

Maria regains her confidence as she realizes that now no secret documents will be found with her.  Her comfort is however short lived, when she is pushed into a bright office where five men are waiting on her.

One of the guards that have accompanied her takes the carry bag from her hand and gives it to one of the men in the room, who turns it over on a wooden desk where every item is looked at carefully.

She cannot help to draw her breath in sharply when she notices that another soldier that had accompanied her is carrying the magazine in his hands. Of the doll there is no sign.   

”Good evening comrade doctor,” Colonel Petrof Petrofski greets her where he is now working along with the PJI.  “Good evening Colonel and to what end is this sudden visit to you and the PJI,” she wants to know angrily.

”Maria Ramos, here I ask the questions,” the Russian roars when one of his big hands explodes in her face and it feels as if all daylight has been slapped out of her and she tastes blood in her mouth.

”I am sorry,” he says calmly.  “Or is your real name Joanna Lerdo?”  He wants to know suddenly from her.  The fact that her true identity is known is the most scaring for Maria.

Maria sits down on a chair that is indicated to her and she is terrified, when they find the two-way radio with which she had to contact the ship in her possessions.

”What have we here?”  Petrofski wants to know.  Maria however doesn’t say a word and stares out in front of her.  One of the five men offers her a tin of cool drink and she takes it thankfully from him and his name is Carlos.

She quickly looks at the men that are with her in the room.  But for the massive Russian, the other men are of common length.  Carlos is a skimpy Cuban and but for his friendly face, the expressions on the faces of the three black men are indecipherable.

”It will be much better and easier for you to work along with us,” Carlos remarks and there is something pleading in his voice.  “Is this all of her possessions?  There was nothing else,” the Russian wants to know from the guards that had accompanied her.

”She dropped the carry bag when she got out of the Jeep,” the guard that had slapped her remarks.  “It was reckless of you!  Did you make sure that she did not get rid of anything?”

The soldier smiles smugly.  “Yes, comrade Colonel.”  “Where did you get that magazine,” Petrofski suddenly wants to know from him, when he notices the women’s magazine in his hands.  The soldier stiffens, as if he has been bit by a snake.  

”Give it here,” the Russian growls and when he opens the magazine it feels for Maria, as if the room’s walls are folding in on her and she can hardly breathe.

”You stupid damn fools!”  Petrofski shouts angrily at the soldiers who had arrested Maria.  “You had almost let the most important evidence slip through our fingers!  Leave this building before I get my hands on you!”

The soldiers are just too happy to get away from the Russian and anger is red on Petrofski’s face.  “I feel like killing you right here woman,” he hisses barely audible after a few minutes.

”Why did you want to leave Angola with that fishing boat,” the Russian wants to know.  Maria does not answer him and stares at the floor in front of her.

A big hand grabs her on her hair and it feels as if a bush of hair is being jerked from her head, when the Russian jerks her head up so that she can look in his eyes.

”You will look at me when I am talking to you, bitch!  Answer my question!”  Maria smells the man’s sweat and sour breath in her face and she knows that she can expect no mercy from this him.

”Gonzales, the owner of the ship promised to show me the lights of Luanda from the ocean.  We would go on a moonlight cruise.  It was such a beautiful evening...”

The Russian snorts and she sees the muscles in his face straining from anger.  “Very clever,” Carlos remarks.  “It will be better however if you tell the truth.  We are nobody’s fools.  I know that you are a reasonable person and would like to avoid any unpleasantness as much as we want to.”

Petrofski waves the documents that he found in an envelope stapled to the magazine and the two-way radio under her nose.

”What have we got here?  Tell us about these documents, this radio transmitter?  Come on doctor,” the Russian says and removes an electric cord from a cupboard with which he hits lightly on his hands.

”You better talk, or I will personally force every answer from you,” the Russian threatens while he studies her and for a long moment there is silence.

”For whom are you working,” Carlos wants to know and offers her a cigarette and although she doesn’t smoke she accepts it and feels light-headed when she draws the smoke into her lungs before she starts to cough.

”I am a doctor.  I work for the ministry of health,” Maria says and blows the smoke on purpose into the face of the Russian.  For a moment she expects him to lash out at her again, but he keeps his anger in check and a sinister smile appears on his face and she cannot fathom why he is smiling.