"Over there," Jing called out to Svetlana. "Turn over there!" She pointed to a dirt road that cut through an endless field of tall grass.

"I don't remember passing by here before," Svetlana remarked.

"It's a faster way," Jing said with confidence.

"That's good enough for me."  Svetlana was impressed with Jing's composure, even if it was hiding a scared and sad young woman. Svetlana was also adept at reading faces, something she had studied during her one semester at Cambridge. Introduction to emotional and social embodied cognitionbb. She was a natural and would have loved the opportunity to continue her studies but Mother Russia had other plans. In this case, it was the Leningrad Museum Bombing by Chechen rebels. She couldn't refuse. And so began her career in the Russian Special Forces.

"I'm going to ask you a personal question. Feel free not to answer."

"I like you," she replied. "Ask me anything."

"When you were a child did you ever have dreams of living someone else?"

"No."

Svetlana waited for Jing to elaborate. Silence.

"You never dreamed about leaving your village, maybe having a career outside of farming?"

"No."

"How did you expect your life would turn out?"

"Exactly as it has."

Another awkward silence.

"In my village, we have an expression,  What you cannot avoid, you must welcome. This is how my life would be. There is nothing any of us could do to change the inevitable. When I was very young I knew I'd be a farmer and a mother. There was always something dark and untold in this village. I don't remember ever going to a wedding. The girls would turn 16 or so and then they'd leave for Shanghai or Beging. At least that's what I was told."

"I can't begin to imagine how you felt."

"My mom never answered any questions. I'd catch her crying sometimes when Father wasn't around. She'd yell at him but he'd never yell back. He'd reply quietly."

"What did they argue about?"

"Me."

Another minute of silence.

"Jing, you're hard to figure out. I ask you some questions and you give me one-word answers. Other questions, you tell me some of your darkest secrets come out."

"Strange? I just answer what's asked."

"Okay then. I'll ask better questions." Jing nodded in response.

"Do you remember what they said when they argued about you?.... Wait, don't answer. That's a bad question. What do you remember from those arguments?"

"My mother wanted me to leave. I thought she was trying to get my father to throw me out of the house. My father wouldn't hear of it, but not because of me. Because it would be bad for my little sister."

"Wait..what about the one-child policy?"

"Not here. We're farmers. Here, they kept having kids until they gave birth to a son. When I got older I understood that the gangs wanted us to have lots of girls. That was their business. I couldn't leave because if I did they'd take my sister who was still very young. I think my father hoped that by the time I turned fifteen, the gangs would have already been taken care of by the authorities. But like I told you before, the gangs are the authorities."

"Not for much longer." Svetlana turned back to Jing and winked.

"I can think of no better way to die than fighting for freedom. But this isn't your fight. There's no honour in having a stranger die for me."

"Stop that Jing. When my heart tells me to do something, I have to.."

"Die?" Jing interrupted.

"I know a Chinese proverb too. The person saying it cannot be done should not be interrupting the person doing it."

More silence, until Jing finally spoke. "One more proverb. Cherish others' kindness at heart and pay back the favour. If we survive, I will be forever in your debt. I will spend the rest of my days repaying you."

"No more proverbs." Svetlana kept her eyes peeled on the road head.

Peter didn't bother trying to understand any part of that conversation. Mandarin wasn't his thing. So instead, he looked out the windowless passenger seat door, realizing how glad he was that he hadn't been asked to come here in winter. Highs of minus twenty Celsius with bone-chilling winds were the norm. In June, it still got cold in the evening, but nothing a good fire couldn't fix.

On the drive, Svetlana got Peter up to speed. She matter-of-factly to him how she got captured and then how she met Jing. Jing, who understood a bit of Russian, kept interrupting in Mandarin, to make sure Svetlana told Peter about the girls being kept as slaves. Svetlana acted as the interpreter.

Svetlana even told Peter about her mission, and how she was tasked with getting the ruby for her boss, although she never mentioned who her boss was. Peter then told Svetlana about Sergei, the spiders and the other Russian young man who had taken the ruby from him at gunpoint.

"So what's going to happen, once we find that ruby?" Peter asked. "Only one of us can bring it back."

"Oh Peter," Svetlana put her hand briefly on Peter's leg. "Neither of us has the gem, so why discuss it? Besides, wouldn't you agree that we have more important things to worry about? I'm not leaving China until every one of those girls is freed and every one of those men is dead."

Jing smiled. "You really are Xi-Wang. I like that name much better than Svetlana." Peter looked confused.

"For now, that's only between Jing and I."

The sun was still above the horizon, giving off orange and red hues. It was a very romantic setting, Peter thought. And then he turned briefly towards Svetlana. Thoughts were racing through his mind that he wished he didn't have right now. He needed to focus on the mission.

"We should wait until evening," Peter told Svetlana. "Darkness has its advantages."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Svetlana reminded him, annoyed. "Of course, we should wait until evening, besides, we can all use some downtime. You know, find some food and water."

"Ask Jing if there are any streams here. Where there's streams, there's wildlife," Peter told Svetlana.

"Again, obvious. It's getting insulting."

Jing laughed and then pointed straight ahead.

"What's over there?" Svetlana asked. "And try to speak in Russian. It's much better than you think."

"There is a narrow river a few kilometres from here with lots of trees. It's well hidden and a great place to rest."

"But can we drink the water?" Svetlana asked. On more than one special op she'd gotten agonizingly sick drinking industrial waste polluted water.

"Of course," Jing replied. "It feeds the reservoir. My village has been coming to the river to get its water ever since I can remember, and none of us are deformed, yet."

"There is certainly nothing deformed about you," Peter chimed in. "How lucky am I, to be here with two beautiful young women?"

Jing smiled. Svetlana pretended she heard nothing.