Krampusnacht

Part II

A few moments later, Robert, and Simon, walked out of the room and down the hallway. Sitting in the room with the burning trash cans, there was a brutish man tied to a chair with a military buzz cut. A gun lay in pieces near him, but just out of reach. A tall, African man greeted them carrying an AK-47 slung around his shoulder, "he has not said anything since."

"Thanks, Kofi," Simon acknowledged and then turned to Pavol, "you know why I did that? Took apart that gun in front of you?" Simon provoked Pavol grinning. "Because, everything in your life is in shambles right now."

"I told you everything. This place is for child slaves. That is all. The gypsies bring them here, and people come to buy them. What else do you want from me?" Pavol explained with a blank stare, and a monotone voice.

"How about some decency?" Kofi smacked him upside the head. "The decency to tell us the truth. The decency men ought to have. Child slavery? What the" Before Kofi could go off on a tangent, Simon got back to the point.

"If that's true, that you sell these children, I think it's fair to say 'export in', why are my ex-Interpol bodies not coming up with evidence to support that?" Simon questioned, pacing the floor.

Pavol was silent, and he took a deep breath. He looked at Kofi, and then back at Simon with an insidious grin, "you can't begin to believe what this is."

Robert tapped Simon, "may I?"

Simon nodded. Robert took out his cellphone and squatted near Pavol, "Look, pal, can you answer me a question. Have you seen this little girl here?" He showed Pavol a picture of Sylvia on his phone.

All of a sudden, the three men heard screams coming from the room down the hall. Robert stared at the brute, Simon's head was already racing down the hallway after the terrified noises, "Genevieve." He left the room, leaving Kofi and Robert there transfixed on the mysterious Slovakian.

"Hey! What's wrong?" Simon knelt down next to Genevieve's cot. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

The older black man looked upon the woman who basically had the covers up to her nose resembling the WWII drawing of Kilroy. "IIIIIIIIIIIII... sawwwwwwwww... ," the way Genevieve's teeth chattered made it seem like an earthquake was erupting in her mouth. She couldn't speak, but only a few words, if not just certain letters.

"What? What is it? Tell me," Simon tried softly holding her. She was shivering, but not in the way one shivers when they're cold. Petrified. It was fear. Pure, unbridled terror making the poor woman shake under her sheets. That's when he got the idea to look at her face, because it was like she was ignoring him for something else in the room. Simon looked into her eyes, following their captive gaze .

They were looking directly at the corner of the ceiling behind him.

Of course, there was nothing there, but the way Genevieve was acting, the ex-Interpol agent got a disturbing feeling, "is there something there, Gene?"

That's when she fainted. "Genevieve!" He checked her pulse, and then kissed her forehead. "It's probably better if you weren't here for a little bit." He regarded the corner closely. It was white. The pant was peeling, and the drywall was exposed. Cobwebs.

Simon walked out of the room, and back to the room with Kofi, Pavol and Robert. The scene he walked in on was shocking: Pavol tied to the chair on the ground with a black eye, and a bloody lip while Robert stood over him with white knuckles and a guilty expression on his face. "What do you think?" Pavol muttered.

"About what?" Robert asked out of breath. Kofi had just stood there. Between Kofi and Simon's "good cop/bad cop" routine it was clearly Robert who was the best interrogator.