The cold floor felt good to Rinchu, almost strangely refreshing under the circumstances he now found himself in. But then, anything was better than dangling from a rope like some damn piñata while a sadistic bastard beat the hell out of you attempting to extract answers you did not possess. What he did know for sure was he was not in the same location where he had been. Blindfolded and a hood thrown over his head, he had been moved by car to this new location. During that journey, he had counted out roughly 14400 seconds, not including stops. Though he had tucked away the number of stops too. He assumed those stops related either to traffic lights or stop signs. There were ten in total not including the arrival at his present location. Wherever he was located he knew he was not closer to the Greater Toronto Area. The location was quieter, and his olfactory senses had definitely picked up smells associated with farming. He concluded that the direction was further north from his previous location.
The hand where they had chopped off his pinky began to ache. At least, he thought, they had been kind enough to properly attend to it to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. He reflected for a second. Kind is a stretch. They probably needed to keep the hand in good enough shape to send other specimens. A sickening chill shot up his back and he quickly refocused his thoughts.
Rinchu tried to remember when he last smelled the sweet clean fragrance of soap and felt warm beads of water from a showerhead against his skin. But the unpleasant influx of foul air surrounding him wiped out that attempt and instead focused it squarely on his excessive lack of hygiene.
He wriggled up the wall slightly with the hope of establishing a more comfortable position. But to no avail. His back burned with pain from the beatings. He gritted his teeth and waited for the discomfort to subside.
After awhile his stomach gurgled and he began to feel hungry. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and for the first time he noticed that slivers of light oozed out an outline of a door opposite him. He heard voices approaching beyond it. Barely breathing, he strained to listen. When Xi?ng’s named popped up several times in that conversation his heart skipped a beat, and his gut turned a hard right like a corkscrew forced into a wine bottle, and he strained even harder to listen. He was sure the language spoken was Hindi. But he only knew a few words, nothing useful to understand the context of their conversation. Discouraged, he slumped back against the wall.
He had no idea how long he had dozed. Just that he must have slept deeply because when he opened his eyes the room was no longer in darkness and in front of him was a table with two chairs. On top of the table was a neatly arrayed tray of cold meat, cheese, a loaf of calabrese bread, butter, pickles and an unopened bottle of Bordeaux wine, a corkscrew and two wine glasses.
Rinchu scanned the room. Above the door opposite him was a camera that was obviously functioning. Along the wall to his right was a bed. And to his left were two bookcases fully loaded with books on either side of another door.
Slowly, he rose. His heart pounded with the effort. He leaned against the wall to catch his breath. After several deep breaths he felt competent enough to make his way to one of the chairs at the table and sit down. Behind him he heard the door open and close.
“Good evening…Rinchu,” the person said. “My name is Semion Kuznetsov. I can see by the way your back tensed you remember who I am. No need to turn around. I am going to join you for supper. But firstly, I need you to take a shower and put on clean clothes.”
“Where?”
“Go through the door between the bookcases. You will find everything you need. No need to hurry. I will enjoy some of this delicious wine while I wait.”
Thirty-minutes later, Rinchu sat across from Semion.
Semion poured Rinchu a glass of wine and then sat back.
From Rinchu’s perspective, Semion appeared to not only be looking at him but surveying him. It was a watchful gaze. One, Rinchu concluded, that served more the intentions of pickpockets and thieves.
“I see you found the razor, shaving cream and clean clothes,” Semion said with a smile.
Rinchu nodded. “Thank you. I feel much better,” he replied, massaging his face.
“Good. Now have something to eat. Not too much though.” He glanced at his watch. “Supper should be here shortly. I hope you like roast beef?”
Discombobulated within his present situation, Rinchu only nodded while he played with the food he had placed on his plate.
“You must wonder, why this apparent change of heart?”
Rinchu peered across at Semion long and hard before he placed down his fork. “You can say that.”
“Let’s call it a lesson in life, namely: you are what you settle for.”
“And you? What have you settled for?”
Semion sighed with a nod. “It’s not about me but about what you are prepared to settle for.”
Rinchu’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Fortitude steeled at the ready, he emotionally prepared himself to weigh every forthcoming word and breath from Semion.
Semion reflexively scratched the back of his right ear. “Well…you see… Xi?ng has got something I very much want back.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “And I want you to help me.”
Rinchu began to laugh. “You must be kidding?!”
“I can assure you I’m not.”
“Let me try to understand.” He held up his hand with the missing pinky. “You chopped off my pinky, hung me from the ceiling and had me beatin’ black-and-blue from my neck to the crack in my ass and now want to change direction to play Mister Nice Guy.” Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes in disbelief. “That’s one helluva stretch, don’t you think? Wait! I get it. You believe I have no choice.”
“You don’t!”
“Ah! But I do!”
Semion glared at him. Then it suddenly melted away to be replaced by a smirk. “Do you know you have a daughter?”
Rinchu recoiled in shock.
Semion pulled out his cell and after a few adjustments turned it so Rinchu could see the screen. “Her name is Ouyang. Pretty young thing, don’t you think?” He was pleased to see it had the effect he wanted. Namely, for Rinchu to believe he had Ouyang within his grasp.
Wordless, Rinchu stared at the screen. “How can I believe anything you tell me?!” And he abruptly swept his hand across the table in anger sending the appetizer plate, its contents and wine bottle smashing onto the floor.
Two South Asian men rushed into the room, but Semion held up his hand to stop them. He stood and for a moment stared down at Rinchu. “I understand,” he sighed. “I guess I would have done the same.” He went to the men and after a brief discussion, returned to sit opposite Rinchu, while they cleaned up the mess.
“I don’t understand why she never told me!” Rinch exclaimed. “It doesn’t make sense!” Delirium began to ripple through him like a tornado destroying any venue of logical thought. His eyes swelled up with tears. At an abyss, his mind screamed for answers.
A newly opened bottle of wine and wine goblet were placed in front of Rinchu. Semion poured him a glass and sat back and waited.
Several minutes passed.
“Do you feel better now?” asked Semion, pretending to lend not only a sympathetic ear but an empathetic voice. “Or would you like something stronger?”
Rinchu slid his glass across to him, and Semion refilled it.
“Would you mind if I try to answer some of your questions?” The scenario he was about to unfold would be a well-crafted lie, a psychological Trojan Horse so-to-speak, to gain entry to his trust and confidence.
Rinchu peered at him. He needed help—any help—to understand not only what had just been told to him, but also time to digest it. Even if it meant it had to come from the trash sitting opposite him.
“You are aware of the kind of work Xiang does. My bet is that once she learned that she was pregnant she felt a need to protect the child in the absolute sense of the word. That meant that no one in the Orion Group, including you, could know. If you take time to think it through, I think you’ll see it makes sense. Also, I am willing to bet she disappeared for an unexplained period and told you her absence was a result of some kind of deep cover operation. Ha! From your expression, I can see you recall such an occasion.”
Rinchu slid forward on his chair. “So, what if I do. I don’t see how I can help. I have no idea where they are. And if I did…”
“No need to finish that statement. But that is where our dilemma lies.”
“Our dilemma?” asked Rinchu with a raised eyebrow.
“Have you heard of game theory?” replied Semion, elbows on the table and his chin resting on top of his clasped hands.
“I’ve heard the expression but that’s about it.”
“What I’m thinking about is the Prisoner’s Dilemma. It’s a thought experiment between two rational agents—say, you and me.” He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms across his lap. “You can either cooperate for mutual benefit or betray the other rational agent for individual gain. I have a book that I’ll have dropped by later this evening for your consideration. Once you’ve gone through it and have made the effort to understand it, we’ll talk again—tomorrow evening to be precise. But please keep in mind how you decide to play it out will be in real time, not an experiment. And depending on how you decide to move forward…well…there could be dire consequences for your loved ones.” Then he said nothing.
To Rinchu, Semion’s stare felt less than someone looking at him and more like someone looking through him—studying him. Someone who had already decided something about you that you weren’t aware of yourself.
The moment felt surreal to Rinchu. And like a soap bubble it puffed and disappeared.
“Good! Our suppers have arrived,” said Semion.
A traditional prime roast beef dinner complete with Yorkshire pudding, gravy, and horseradish was placed in front of them.
A south Asian person dressed in chef’s gear stood to one side.
“I’m still at a loss,” said Rinchu.
“Because of how you are now being treated?”
Rinchu nodded hesitantly.
Semion smiled. “You’ll need to eat slowly. Savor it. It’s been a while since you last ate. We will talk tomorrow. “
Then to Rinchu’s surprise, Semion rose and left the room.
Rinchu’s gaze fell on the camera above the door. Whoever had been watching had turned it off.
He ate some of the meal in front of him but left most of it untouched.
Later that evening a binder was delivered to his door. In it was the article on the Prisoner’s Dilemma. He read through it several times until he finally fell asleep.
When he awoke, he peered about the lighted room. He was surprised to find that the table, food, and wine had been removed and wondered how he had come about to sleep so soundly. He sat up and rifled his fingers through his hair. Surprisingly, he felt well rested. He decided to start his day by taking a shower. But he soon realized that that was out of the question. The door was locked. When he returned to sit on the edge of his bed it was then that his attention was caught by the edge of something poking out from just under his pillow. It was a photo of Ouyang.
He noted that the camera above the door had been turned on again.