Five Ways to Surrender

by Elle James

  * * *

  “CAN YOU GO any faster?” Jake demanded.

  “I’ve got my foot to the floor and we barely made the last curve in the road without flipping this vehicle.” Harm held his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel as he maneuvered around another sharp curve in the road. “What more do you want?”

  “I want to get to some place with cell phone reception.” He shook the hand holding the burner phone in the air. “We have no other way to find Alex. This damned phone and the ability to receive messages could mean life or death for her.”

  The sun had yet to rise, and the predawn sky barely gave enough light to avoid obstructions in the road until they were practically on them. Twice Harm had to slam on the breaks to avoid hitting a large animal. After the buffalo herd, they’d come across a giraffe standing in the middle of the lane, munching on the leaves of a tree hanging over the road. At another spot, they’d almost run over a pack of hyenas fighting over a carcass. They were almost all the way back to Niamey before they regained cell phone reception.

  The phone in Jake’s hand buzzed with an incoming text message. He nearly dropped the device in his hurry to read the message.

  While Harm kept driving toward the embassy, Jake read aloud: Jake Schuler, if you want the girl meet me at these coordinates at midnight alone, or she dies.

  The coordinates were listed after the words.

  “You can’t go alone,” Harm said.

  Jake shook his head. “I can’t risk taking anyone with me.”

  “We’ll make a plan.” Harm shot a glance toward him. “Hell, he’s giving you all day to come up with something.”

  Jake frowned, staring at the text as if he might glean more information than was written on the screen. “Why did he set the meeting at midnight?”

  “He’s hiding,” Harm said.

  Jake clutched the phone in his fist, his heart racing, his desire to act making him edgy. “I say we go now.”

  “No way. If you go now, you’ll be seen from miles away. We need to look at the map, see where exactly he’s taking you.” Harm sped through the streets of Niamey and pulled up to the gate at the embassy. “We need to let T-Mac do his computer thing and see if he can determine who sent that text. That might give us more of a clue who we’re up against.”

  Harm spoke with the gate guard and waited for the guard to call for clearance to allow them to bring Reverend and Mrs. Townsend into the complex.

  While the guards checked both vehicles for explosive devices, Jake tapped his fingers on the armrest, counting the seconds until they could get to their rooms and devise a plan.

  Finally they were cleared to enter.

  Harm shifted into Drive and continued their conversation as if it hadn’t been interrupted for ten minutes. “While T-Mac’s doing the computer work, we can get online with the CO and see if we can get some support for this operation.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Townsend.” Harm glanced over to Jake. “We couldn’t have left immediately, anyway. We had passengers who needed to be delivered to safety.”

  Jake knew Harm was right on all counts, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Every fiber of his being physically ached to be on the road to the coordinates listed in the text. He couldn’t imagine what horrors Alex might be experiencing at that moment. But he knew Harm was right. His most recent solo experience had taught him a valuable lesson. He needed the support of his team. The more support he had, the better chance he had of rescuing Alex.

  The SUVs were met at the front of the complex. An ambulance was on standby to transport the Townsends to the nearest hospital for medical care and evaluation.

  Ambassador Brightbill insisted on a debriefing immediately and attended with the missionaries and the SEAL team.

  Jake and his teammates filed into the conference room following the Townsends. The Townsends gave their statement and were cleared to leave in the waiting ambulance.

  When they’d left the room, Ambassador Brightbill addressed the SEALs, his brow furrowed. “You realize you conducted an unsanctioned operation in this country, and I will have to answer to the repercussions, don’t you?”

  Jake stood tall and proud, refusing to take any kind of flak from some desk jockey of a politician. “Yes, sir.”

  The ambassador narrowed his eyes and stared at each SEAL one at a time. Then his frown lifted. “Thank you. I doubt I could have gotten as quick a response had I gone through the proper channels to get help. If you need anything, just ask me. Thomas, my executive officer, had a family emergency come up and had to leave Niger to return to the States on short notice, or he would have been at this debrief with me.” He stood and shook hands with each of the men. “Thank you for all you do for our country and our people.”

  Shocked by the show of support, Jake shook the man’s hand. “If you’ll excuse us, we’d like to get cleaned up,” he lied. To protect the ambassador as much as to protect Alex, Jake didn’t enlighten Brightbill on the next nonsanctioned operation they would be conducting that night.

  He found it better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Ambassador Brightbill would understand.

  The team hurried to T-Mac’s room. He brought up the borrowed laptop, keyed in the coordinates and zoomed in on the map.

  Buck leaned over T-Mac’s chair. “That’s out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “The story of our tour in Africa,” Diesel muttered. “At least it’s not on the Congo River with gorillas and crocodiles.”

  “Yeah, but there could be hungry lions, or angry rhinoceroses,” Pitbull said.

  “Just so you know,” T-Mac said. “While you all were out playing heroes and bad guys getting the Townsends out of that village, I made a deal with the devil.”

  “You called the commander.” Hope swelled inside Jake. “And?”

  “He thought things were hot enough around here to send reinforcements. Two more helicopters from the 160th Night Stalkers should be landing at the Special Forces location near us within the hour, where the previous helicopter is still waiting. The two additional choppers are coming complete with another twelve of our closest friends.”

  Jake grabbed T-Mac’s shoulders from behind. “I could kiss you.”

  T-Mac held up his hands. “Save it for someone who wants it, dude. I’m not your type. But there’s more.”

  “More?” Jake stared at T-Mac’s reflection in the computer screen. “As if reinforcements weren’t enough?”

  T-Mac grinned. “He also sent the drone to conduct recon missions and provide additional firepower, should we need it. Give me a minute and I’ll find out the status of both and convey the coordinates for a high flyover reconnaissance mission by the drone.”

  “As long as it doesn’t alert the kidnapper that we’re on to them.”

  “Got it.” T-Mac bent to the computer and placed a video call to their commander back in Djibouti.

  The CO responded in seconds. “You better be calling to say you found our AWOL SEAL.”

  Jake leaned down to get his face in view of the camera. “Sir, I’m here.”

  “Any casualties?” the commander barked.

  “Not on our end, sir,” Jake responded.

  “If not on our end, then whose end?” their boss asked.

  “Let’s just say some of the ISIS folks who crashed our party a couple days ago won’t be bothering us again.”

  “Good.” The commander’s eyes narrowed. “So, am I correct in assuming I can send a C-17 aircraft to pick up my choppers and drone and expect you six troublemakers back in Djibouti with them?”

  Jake ran a hand through his hair. “Well, sir, about that.”

  His commander’s lips thinned and his jaw tightened until there was a tick twitching on one side of his face. “What now?”

  “You remember that teacher I helped escape the ISIS att
ack on that village?” Jake asked.

  “The one who insisted you go after the reverend and his wife?” The CO nodded. “What about her?”

  “She was kidnapped last night.”

  The commander scrubbed a hand over his face and then stared at him from the screen. “I guess it doesn’t make a difference if I tell you it’s not your problem.”

  “Sir, no sir. It is my problem. If I don’t agree to meet with them, they’ll kill her.”

  “And how do you know they want you to meet with them, and not someone else?”

  Jake sighed. “The text message had my name on it.”

  The commander nodded, his lips twisting. “Which makes it your problem.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The CO scrubbed a hand over his face again. “You know I can’t authorize you to go in alone.”

  Jake straightened, his fists clenched at his sides. “No disrespect, sir, but I’m going.”

  His commander waved a hand. “That’s a given. I’m sure if I told you that you couldn’t, you’d go AWOL again.”

  As a man who valued his career as a navy SEAL, Jake knew what that could mean. But it didn’t matter. Alex was out there, being threatened and possibly tortured. “Yes, sir. I’d go anyway.”

  The CO tapped a pen against his desk for a moment and then glanced up. “Okay, then, but you’ll do it my way, or I withdraw my birds. Got it?”

  Jake scowled. “But sir, I have to go in alone, or he’ll kill her.”

  “Did I say you weren’t going in alone?” The older SEAL cocked an eyebrow.

  “No, sir,” Jake said.

  “Then listen up.” The CO looked past Jake. “And that goes for the rest of your team. Are they there? Can they hear me?”

  “Yes, sir!” All six men gathered around the computer while their commander told them the game plan and how the helicopters and drone would play a part. When he was done talking, he signed off and the men put his plan into action.

  Jake prayed they were in time, and that whoever was holding Alex wouldn’t get nervous and kill her anyway.

  He figured it was time to go to work, doing what SEALs do best.

  Chapter Sixteen

  With what little light came through the small window of the cargo container office, Alex searched for anything rough enough to help her break her bonds.

  When she couldn’t find a coarse edge, she made one by smashing the leg off a wooden chair and using the jagged, splintered end to scrape the plastic tie across. She held the broken wooden stake between her fingers and ran the plastic over the broken leg again and again.

  A couple times she scraped the skin on her wrists, causing them to bleed. Ignoring the pain, she worked harder, determined to get herself out of the mess she was in.

  No matter how hard she scraped, the zip tie didn’t break. With her wrists bound behind her back and ankles locked together, she couldn’t get very far.

  After several hours’ work at her bindings, the heat in the office bore down on her. Sweat dripped into her eyes, making them burn. Despair threatened to take hold and suck her under.

  Each time she got the feeling all was lost, she’d remember how wonderful it had felt to make love with Jake. The images conjured up made her all the more determined to get free and see the man again, even if only for a minute, an hour or a day. She didn’t try to think beyond that because he was a SEAL and she was a teacher. It wasn’t as if they could have a future together. Heck, they barely knew each other. He probably didn’t want the burden of a relationship anyway.

  But she wouldn’t know if she didn’t try. And she’d never wanted to try more than she did at that moment. Jake was worth the effort.

  When the broken chair leg didn’t make much of a dent in the hard plastic bindings, Alex looked around the room for anything else.

  In one corner of the office lay a metal ammunition box. If she could get it open, the edge of the box might be strong enough that she could rub the plastic tie over it until it broke.

  Alex inched across the floor, turned her back to the box and fumbled with the latch. After a few attempts, she managed to open the ammo box, unhooking and then flipping up the metal clamp.

  Inside the box were rifle magazines and bullets. She ignored the contents and rubbed the zip tie along the side edges of the container.

  The metal was just coarse enough to impact the integrity of the plastic. When she was well through the density of the plastic and on her way to breaking the tie, the door to the shipping container office jerked open. Bright sunlight blinded Alex for a moment. Fresh warm air wafted into her prison, along with a haze of dust.

  Alex sat up straight, pushing the ammo box behind her, out of sight. She blinked up as Quinten Philburn entered the office and smirked down at her.

  The man laughed. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

  Remembering her father’s words that the best defense was a good offense, Alex faced Philburn. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, but you’re doing it with the wrong person.”

  He laughed. “I’d say I caught a valuable little prize in you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I’m just a teacher. I don’t have rich parents. I’m not worth anything to you or anyone else. So why keep me?”

  “Oh, but you are worth more than you think. You’re going to buy me time.”

  “Time?”

  “Time to clean up and clear out.” Philburn waved a hand to the side. “All I have to do is collect a few of the loose ends you and your boyfriend created.”

  Alex frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will, soon enough.” He glanced around the small space. “Any last requests before I leave you?”

  “I’d say a steak dinner with a baked potato and a salad, but right now, water would be nice,” she said, her voice gravelly, her throat parched in the heat.

  Philburn snorted. “I can spare a little water to keep my prize alive a little longer.” He gave her one last look and then left the building, closing the door sharply behind him.

  Anger burned low in Alex’s belly. If she got free, she’d take Philburn down any way she could. The man was the devil.

  A moment later, the door burst open again. This time, a guard dressed in a dusty olive-green uniform stood in the door frame, his rifle pointing in at Alex. His glanced around the interior of the office and then stepped back.

  A man Alex barely recognized entered, carrying a bucket of water and a dipper. His dark hair, skin and clothing covered in dust, he walked with a limp, and appeared to be much older than she knew him to be.

  “Fariji,” she gasped. This man, her classroom assistant, was one of the sweetest, kindest men in her village. Alex’s heart broke when she spied what appeared to be whip marks across the back of his neck. “What are you doing here?”

  With his gaze downcast, he answered, “Miss Alex, I brought you water.” Then he bent to hold the dipper to her lips.

  Alex drank, filling her dry mouth with the tepid water. So what if it wasn’t purified? She’d die of heat exhaustion without it. She swallowed and asked, “Is Philburn forcing you to work his mine?”

  Fariji didn’t answer but held the dipper to her lips again. Something fell into her lap. For a moment, his gaze met hers, and then his eyelids lowered and he backed slowly away.

  Alex drew her knees up, hiding whatever Fariji had purposely dropped.

  “Out!” the guard barked at Fariji.

  The gentle, sweet man turned and hurried out of the office.

  The guard glared back in at Alex and then slammed the door shut.

  Footsteps sounded, fading away.

  When Alex was certain the guard was gone and wouldn’t suddenly reopen the door, she looked down at the article Fariji had left in her lap.

  It was a small steel f
ile, probably from a toolbox of one of the workers at the mine.

  Alex rolled over, letting it drop to the floor, then scooted around to grab it with her hands behind her back.

  Once she had it between her fingers, she sawed at the zip tie. A couple minutes later, the tie snapped and her wrists were free.

  A quick rush of joy spread through her, but she refused to bask in it. She had a lot to do before dark, and she prayed Philburn wouldn’t return in the meantime. If he caught her without bonds, he’d just have her restrained again and she’d have to start all over.

  With her hands free, she made quick work of breaking the zip tie at her ankles. Once she could move around, she searched the drawers, boxes and containers for anything she could use for a weapon. Alas, she had only the metal file.

  She tried the door and discovered it was locked from the outside. The window was small, but if she worked at it, she might get through. Not in the daylight, though. Careful not to let anyone see her, she peered through the window and studied what she could see of the compound.

  Big trucks carried massive amounts of dirt from the mine, dumping it in piles near something that appeared to be a sifter.

  Workers carried buckets of material on their heads or dragged huge sacks behind them.

  Guards carried either rifles or whips or both. When a worker fell or stumbled with his load, a guard was right on top of him, yelling or cracking a whip.

  She managed to open the window slightly to let in fresh air, though it did little to reduce the increasing temperature inside the cramped container. If Philburn didn’t kill her, the heat might.

  With little else to do, Alex sat beneath the window and waited for dusk and a chance to escape. When she was free, she’d make her way back to Niamey and demand the Niger government do something about the illegal mining, and that they free the conscripted workers. She wouldn’t leave Fariji or any of the others behind. The lies, the torture and forced labor had to come to an end. Good people like Fariji didn’t deserve to be abused in this manner.

  The heat drained her, but she held tight to hope and the eventual setting of the brutal sun. When the shadows lengthened and light faded from the small window, the unbearable heat lessened and Alex pushed to her feet. It would soon be time to make good her escape.