She had not been raped in the past two days, and she had not been raped in Bucharest or in Belgrade or in the cellar of the farmhouse. As far as she could tell, she was very much in the minority here in that regard. She didn’t know what this meant, only thought it could be because she kept her head down and avoided any eye contact with anyone, even with the other hostages.

Just as she thought this, the leader of the new set of guards stepped closer to the group, and he spoke in English with an accent Maja, not a native speaker of English, could not identify.

“We heard about the killing the other night. That wasn’t us. That was the Serbs.” He said “Serbs” like it sickened him to do so. “We wish you no harm, but if you try to leave our care, we will be forced to recover you, and then to punish you and everyone else for your misbehavior. Do not try to leave, and you will be treated with respect.”

Respect? Did he really say “respect”? Maja wanted to laugh at this, but she kept her eyes averted and her mouth closed.

The man continued. “I suspect you all have been wondering why you are here and where you are going. I can only tell you this. You arrived early, due to the attack in Bosnia the other day. We were not ready to accept you, so we have put you here. Normally your quarters would be better, but we did the best with the time we had. Right now we are waiting on a boat, and it will arrive tomorrow night, and when it does arrive, you will all be taken to it and moved on to your next destination.”

No one spoke still, but he answered the question everyone had. “You want to know where you are going, yes? I do not know. My men and I are here to keep you safe, and to put each and every last one of you on the boat. That is all we know.”

He paused, as if waiting for questions, but no one dared. Finally he said, “I’ve heard all about this American who tried to rescue you, and then committed another attack on the process in Bosnia.”

Maja didn’t know anything of another attack.

“Just be aware. My men are nothing like the Serbian hoodlums you’ve been surrounded by. My men are trained. Skilled. We will remain vigilant, but we are unafraid of this masked man.

“Now,” he continued, “we will be here for the rest of today and all day tomorrow. I suggest you rest, eat when the food arrives, and relax. I know the Serbians do not allow talking. That is not us. Talk to each other if you wish, but do so softly, or you will all lose privileges.”

The leader turned away and left the room, leaving four more armed men standing around or sitting on broken windowsills.

Maja sat quietly, her long dark hair hanging in her eyes, until a woman scooted over to her and sat close.

“Do you speak Russian?” the woman asked in Russian.

Maja did speak some, but she didn’t feel like talking. “Nyet.”

“English?”

Maja hesitated. She was afraid to speak but was certain this woman had heard her speaking English back in Belgrade. There was no denying it now. “Yes.”

“My name is—”

Maja interrupted. “No. You know the rules. Don’t say your real name.”

“No one can hear us if we speak softly.”

Maja looked at the floor. “I don’t want to know your real name.”

The woman leaned closer to Maja. “Fine. They call me Anke here. Where are you from?”

“Romania,” Maja said.

“I am from Kiev. Ukraine.”

“Okay.”

“I wanted to tell you, because you look older than many of the others.” Maja had just turned twenty-three, and this did put her as one of the older women in the group.

“Tell me what?”

“I have learned that one of us is a spy.”

Now Maja looked up in surprise. “A what?”

“A Serbian guard told me when we were getting off the bus. He likes me, I guess, and before they left he whispered that I should watch what I say to the others because one of the girls was put in here to inform on the rest of us.”

Maja looked around in the dim. “That . . . that sounds crazy. Nobody is here because they want to be.”

Another woman, Maja knew her to be Moldovan, leaned into the conversation.

“Maybe it’s crazy,” the Moldovan said, looking at Maja. “Or maybe it’s you.” Louder she said, “Maybe you are the informant.”

“I . . . I am not an informant.”

Others tucked closer on the floor, listening in as the Moldovan girl continued. “I have been watching you. I have been raped twice. Once in Belgrade, and once last night in the forest. Most of the other girls have been raped, as well.”

All of the girls within earshot nodded.

“Others have been beaten. But you? I haven’t seen them lay a finger on you.”

Another young woman, also one of the Ukrainians, said, “I saw her touched. In the woods the other night. One of the men selected her, dragged her a few feet. But then he put her back in line when the other man yelled at him.” She eyed Maja now. “It was like you were being protected for some reason. Why?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I swear I don’t understand what is happen—”

The first woman hissed at her. “Liar. You are working with them.”

She tried to protest, but the rest of the group moved away from her, leaving her alone on the floor in the middle of the room.

With everything that had happened so far, Maja didn’t think she had any more tears left in her, but she began to cry again.

* * *

• • •

Talyssa Corbu and I find ourselves sitting a couple blocks away from the main police station in Dubrovnik, Croatia, on a hilly residential side street off Ante Starcevica. It’s pouring rain; Talyssa has her coat on and an umbrella in her hand, but she’s not worried about the weather at present. Instead she’s trying to psych herself up to walk straight into the police station and reveal to some possibly very bad people that she is here to unmask their very bad actions.

I sure as shit wouldn’t want to do it, so I can understand her reluctance.

I’m trying to psych her up, too, but I can see that accomplishing her task this afternoon is going to take reserves of strength I have no confidence this young woman possesses.

But she’s all we’ve got right now, so I’m sending her in.

Together we decide she will identify herself as a Europol criminal analyst, and say that she is investigating rumors of a sex trafficking pipeline run by an international consortium, a pipeline that leads from far in the East to right here in Dubrovnik. The local police will be able to check out Talyssa’s credentials easily enough, and when they do, they will speak to her superiors, who will quickly tell them she has taken a leave of absence from work—work that involves coordinating with European law enforcement agencies on money laundering and other financial fraud.