The hired killer looked around the small lot and then at his prisoners. An unasked question hung in the air.
Marla picked up on it. "I take the bus and he rides his bike. I'd apologize, but ya know, I wouldn't mean it."
"Fine. Back inside." Jacobi herded them into the shop. "Back on your knees." He didn't wait for them to comply. He put the box on the counter and took out his cell phone. He barked into the phone and proceeded to ream someone out. At least that's what it sounded like to Danny.
Danny had taken some Russian his first year in school and it wasn't that, but it sounded a bit like it. Anytime he'd ever heard a foreign language spoke, it always seemed like the speaker was overly angry or excited. That probably came from the fact that they usually spoke it so quickly. He supposed that people who didn't speak English would think the same thing when they heard him. The look on Jacobi's face made it clear enough that he was not only angry, but enraged.
Finished and without waiting for a reply, Jacobi slammed the flip phone shut. He felt like crushing it and feeling the plastic pieces dig into his hand. It would have satisfied some sort of primeval need for blood. Things were beginning to deteriorate and he didn't appreciate that. No one would be available to pick him up for at least an hour.
He went to the front door and flipped the thumb lock. There was no sign to indicate that the shop was open or closed. Hopefully the idiots that shopped here would be able to figure out that it was closed if the door was locked. One could never be certain with the cattle that occupied this country.
Marla watched Jacobi move. Things didn't look well for them continuing to draw breath. Of course he'd left them alive so far, a fact that more than surprised her. With that knife he could have cut their throats and been on his merry way. Unable to raise her tied hands, she tried to get his attention with a pleading look. Her earlier smartass remark probably hadn't helped his mood.
"Yes, Marla," he said in a more level tone, "what can I do for you?"
Die she thought. She almost started to say "Let us go." That was likely a bad idea though. She knew how cliché her response was before she even said it. "No, it's what I can do for you. I can get you in that box if you want."
"You don't say. And why do you think I want in this box, or couldn't get in it if I did?" He waited for her answer.
Marla shrugged just a little. "Someone wants in there and they've hired you to do it. I guess if you've got no interest in it then I have to ask why you are here? As for you getting in, I know you'd have to wreck it to do so. How do I know that? Couldn't tell you, not yet anyway, but I do. If that box gets damaged then I'll wager you're out of a job. Right?" The man just looked through her. "So there's your answers."
